


Bloody Noses & Crack'd Crowns

by TheWeaverofWorlds



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Injury, Boxing, Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Found Family, Good Parents Maggie & Wentworth Tozier, Human Pennywise (IT), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Racial slurs, Racism, References to Shakespeare, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Underground Fight Club, Violence, good parents Donald & Andrea Uris, minor pedophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 134,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24246772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeaverofWorlds/pseuds/TheWeaverofWorlds
Summary: When new kids: Bill, Mike, and Eddie arrive at Derry High, Stan and his friends aren't quite sure what to make of them. The new kids keep to themselves and are an utter mystery. Then things get stranger. They begin to show up to school with unexplained injuries. What looks like domestic abuse turns much more sinister as Stan, Beverly, Richie and Ben discover an underground fighting ring in their midst. As these revelations are made, things grow even more complicated as Bill finds himself falling for Stan and Eddie doesn't know what to do around Richie, the boy who could ruin him. Soon the new kids are forced to choose whether to ask for help and save themselves or to continue in the relative safety of the violence they have always known.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 382
Kudos: 214





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...this is no world  
> To play with mammets and to tilt with lips  
> We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns...
> 
>  _Henry IV part I_ ; William Shakespeare

Bill was finishing his summer reading in the back seat. The rhythm of the car and Shakespeare’s words pulled heavily at his eyelids lulling him to the brink of sleep. His brother, Georgie, was curled up against his side fast asleep. He was drooling a little, but Bill didn’t mind. He looked peaceful. That was something Bill would never rob him of, not now. On the other side of Georgie, Mike slept. His breath was fogging up the glass, but he too looked content. His long legs were spread in front of him, the passenger side seat pulled very close to the dashboard to give him room.

Eddie sat in that seat. He fiddled with his inhaler, legs drawn up under him. Bill knew he was nervous. Eddie was always nervous, but particularly when they moved. They had to be more careful in a new town. When people were curious about them it was a lot easier to let things slip, and in order to survive that was the one thing they must never do.

They had been in the car for six hours today, as well as yesterday, and the day before that. Everything was sore, a different sore than usual, so Bill couldn’t complain. But even so, the forests of rural Maine were so different than the Windy City he had grown accustomed to. The landscape rushed by them, painted by the fading light.

The car slowed down before pulling over onto the shoulder. They were on the outskirts of a small town.

“Wake them up,” Robert Gray, the driver, said.

Bill shook Georgie first before moving to Mike. Their tiredness made them vulnerable to curiosity, but Robert had trained them too well to ask what was happening. They waited for him to speak.

“There were fuck ups in Chicago. We can’t have that here, understood?” Robert looked at Georgie through the rear view mirror. After all it had been his fault they had had to leave so quickly, and they all knew it. Robert had ensured that they knew who to blame. The small boy shrunk closer to his brother. “I have some friends in this town. Friends who have been kind enough to take us in. And if you brats are good we might even be able to stay here for a whole school year. How does that sound?”

They replied that that sounded good. Nice even.

Robert smiled. It was an oily smile which he reserved particularly for them. It was a smile which promised pain. “Good, chickadees. Welcome to Derry. Welcome to your new home.”

Robert drove them over a bridge through the heart of Derry. The main road was full of interesting shops that were closed for the night. Further down the road, the buildings were far and few between. On one side the land fell away from the road giving way to a thick patch of trees and wilderness. On the other side, there was a park where a large white standpipe rose as if it were watching the town. As they drove down the road the wildlife gave way to an ugly gravel pit which gave Bill a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Robert turned the car off the main road onto Route 2, before turning once more onto Neibolt Street. The road was a dead end, and looked only partially developed. There were a few streetlights but they were few and far between, leaving dark holes in reality. Anything could be lurking there. It was just the place Robert would pick to call home.

It was dark when they pulled up in front of a house. Once it had been a beautiful Victorian, with peaked eaves and a turret, but due to neglect it had fallen into disrepair. The paint had chipped, and the siding was falling away in some places. The yard, if it could be called that, was full of overgrown weeds, dried from a hot summer. The windows, like eyes, watched their arrival hungrily. In the shadows it looked like the house was grinning down upon them.

Georgie moved closer to Bill. And while most sixteen year old boys would push their younger brother away, Bill found himself taking Georgie’s hand into his own.

“Alright, chickadees, this is us.” 

Robert whistled as he led them through a rusted iron gate, up the front stairs of the house.

The night air was chilly. Eddie drew his sweater around him, hanging around Robert like a shadow. Mike and Bill carried the few bags they had traveled with. Once Robert had unlocked the front door he led the way into their new home.

The boxes, which the moving company had brought earlier that day, were piled in the entry hall. Although the house looked pitiful from the outside the inside hadn’t seen too much damage. The hardwood floors, while creaky, still held a hint of their previous luster. The wallpaper was faded, but it didn’t look too shabby. The place looked as if it had been cleaned recently. There was no lingering dust or cobwebs. Bill figured Eddie must be relieved.

Robert gave them a tour of the house, which was much bigger than their Southside house had been. Their furniture looked shabby in this new place. There was a kitchen, dining room and laundry room all on the first floor. That was nice as it meant they wouldn’t have to go to a laundromat. Robert hated that they hadn’t had their own washer and dryer at their last house.

After they explored the first floor, Robert led them back to the staircase and took them upstairs.

“Now Eddie and Mike will each have a room of their own. Billy, I’m sure you won’t mind sharing with your little brother.” Robert said.

“N-not at all.”

“Good. You two will have the biggest of the three rooms, here.” Robert led them into the first room on the second floor.

Moonlight streamed through the large window. Two twin beds were already made up for them. One bedside table held Georgie’s things, the other was covered in Bill’s own books. There were two desks, a small book case, and a closet. A few boxes were labeled with their belongings, but it was much fewer than had been downstairs, or were expected to belong to two young boys. Like the furniture it looked pitiful in this grand room.

“How?” Georgie asked looking at the made up beds.

“My friends thought it might be nice to set up our rooms after so many days of travel. That was nice of them wasn’t it? You’ll be sure to thank them when you meet them, won’t you?”

Georgie nodded.

“Good.”

He led them to Eddie’s room next, then Mike’s, before pointing out the bathroom at the end of the hall. Once he was done the tour he led them back to the landing. “And my room will be here. Right by the stairs. Easy to remember, yes?”

They knew Robert had picked that room so that they wouldn’t be able to sneak out without his knowing. Even so each of the boys nodded.

“Good. Before I let you boys settle in a few reminders. No one is to go into the attic or basement as they are both unsanitary. It is no place for boys to be playing. School will begin on Monday. And you’ll remember the rules. No fuck ups. Alright, chickadees. You may go to bed. We’ll worry about unpacking tomorrow.” At that Robert gave them a particularly nasty smile, full of teeth. 

The rules were the same no matter what city they were in. And they had been in a lot of cities. If they were good they would stay in a city for about a year, but they had only been in Chicago a few months before they needed to relocate. Bill and Georgie had been with Robert through many cities – four years worth – Mike even more. And Eddie had been living with Robert since he was a baby. 

After Eddie’s dad had died from cancer, his mom lost her will to live. She stopped eating until eventually she just wasted away leaving her young son to their family friend. Robert was the only parent Eddie had ever known. Bill and Georgie’s parents had died when he was twelve and when Georgie had been six. Robert had adopted them shortly after, but they still had some memories of before. Bill didn’t know which was worse.

They had been dismissed. Bill and Georgie headed off to their own room where they unpacked toiletries and pajamas. The suitcases and the rest of their things could wait until tomorrow.

Bill tucked Georgie into his bed, wrapping the old comforter around his brother’s shoulders. Bill knew that Georgie was small for his age. He couldn’t help but worry that his brother wasn’t eating enough. A selfish part of him hoped that Georgie might stay small, like Eddie. It might keep him safer if he did.

“Billy?”

“W-what is it, G-georgie.”

“I’m scared.”

“I k-k-know.”

“Could you read something to me?”

“Sure, what do you want?”

Georgie reached out and grabbed a battered book from the bedside table. It was _The Hobbit_. Bill smiled. It was one of their favorites, something their dad read to them from before.

“Would you mind sleeping in my bed? Just for tonight. I promise.”

“A-alright.”

Georgie moved over to make room for his older brother. As they were getting settled there was a soft knock on their door. The brothers turned to find Eddie standing there. He looked awfully young in his pajamas. Sleep was beginning to pull at his eyes.

“Reading _The Hobbit_?”

“Yeah, want to join us?” Georgie asked.

Eddie entered the room and sat on Bill’s bed. This was just as much tradition as Bill reading to Georgie. As Eddie settled in Mike tapped on the door frame. “Room for one more?”

“Always,” Georgie said.

Mike closed the door behind him before curling up on Bill’s bed with Eddie. The other boy responded positively to Mike’s gentle touch, relaxing into his warmth.

Bill began to read. Mike was the first one to fall asleep, and it didn’t take much longer for Georgie to do the same. Bill turned off the light, allowing his eyes to adjust. Weak moonlight illuminated the room. The few lampposts on Neibolt were too far away to do much good and suddenly Bill realized just how different things were going to be. He missed hearing the L as it made its journey in and out of the city. It used to rattle their bedroom windows as it sped above them. It had always been comforting to know that there were other people living happy lives. Safe lives. They felt like guardian angels. Out here Bill was far from any angels.

“Bill, are you nervous? About Robert’s friends?” Eddie whispered so as not to wake Georgie or Mike. Bill hadn’t even realized he was still awake. He turned on his side to look at Eddie as he thought the question over.

Robert’s friends were the reason they were in this town instead of anywhere else. Not his friends but one friend in particular, Butch. Butch Bowers was the police chief in Derry as well as the leader of an underground fighting ring. One that Robert wanted to enter his “chickadees” in. No. Just Bill and Mike. Eddie and Georgie were good for other things, like bandaging them up after a match or leverage. Robert particularly liked to use Georgie against Bill. He knew it was his weakness. Bill would fight to keep his brother fed, to keep him unhurt, and away from men who eyed him like he was a piece of meat. Robert knew this and manipulated him with it. Mike fought to earn his freedom at 18, it was something Robert had promised both of them but Bill knew he would stay until Georgie was free too. He doubted if Mike could get away, especially now that they were in Derry. Derry seemed like the end of the line for a lot of reasons.

Good ol’ Butch had been only too happy to welcome them here. In his eyes fresh meat was good meat, and he hoped that there was someone to put on a good show against his champion. A better show than the drunken layabouts and hobos that he arrested, and Robert was willing to put his money on Mike. That was why they were here. That’s why Bill doubted Robert would let Mike go in two years. So long as their were people willing to bet money, and Mike and Bill were alive, Robert would drag them wherever he goddamn pleased and there was no getting out. By law they were his, and he knew it. But if Bill told Eddie all that he would only scare the other boy.

“I’m n-not afraid.”

“Really?”

“W-w-what’s there to fear, Eddie? This place can’t be w-worse than Southside.”

Eddie swallowed; no doubt remembering the violence and poverty they had experienced in Chicago. “But –”

“Get some sleep. W-we’ve g-got a lot of w-work ahead of us.”

“Okay. G’night, Bill.”

“’N-n-night, Eddie.”

Both boys fell into an uneasy sleep.

That was how Robert found them when he came to lock their doors before he turned in. He watched them sleep, two boys curled up together in each bed. He didn’t mind. They had been forced to share rooms in their last house, they probably weren’t used to having rooms of their own yet. Let them find comfort where they could. They were going to need it. And after tonight he would ensure that they wouldn’t share beds. Besides two of them were going to need a full bed and plenty of rest in order to heal, that would put an end to their sleepovers. Of that Robert was sure. He closed the door and locked the boys in. He thought that he was going to like Derry. He was going to like it very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello welcome to my new fic! Please leave a comment below and lmk what you think. And while you're waiting for an update go check out my other Stenbrough fics: Come My Way or Friday I'm in Love. Thanks!!  
> Yrs.  
> TWoW


	2. Chapter 2

It was the last day of summer vacation and Beverly rushed to meet her friends at the clubhouse. She had news. By the time she got to the Barrens and climbed down into the underground clubhouse, Stan, Richie and Ben were already there. As usual, Richie was talking Stan’s ear off. Ben brightened upon his girlfriend’s arrival and kissed her a kiss on the cheek

“Hi, Bev.”

“Hey, love. I’ve got news if the old married couple would give the bickering a rest.” There was a mischievous smile on her lips.

Stan rolled his eyes. “We weren’t bickering. Richie was just running his mouth as usual.”

“I take offense to that, Stannabelle.”

“You two really are like an old married couple.” Ben said.

Richie leaned in trying to plant a wet kiss on Stan’s cheek. Stan shoved Richie’s head away.

“What’s your news?” Stan asked desperate to change the subject.

“There are some new kids coming to Derry High!”

“How do you know? Did you meet them?” Ben asked.

Bev shook her head. “No, but yesterday my dad and I went over to help Sheriff Bowers. He was overseeing some movers move boxes into the empty house on Neibolt Street and needed some help. My dad and him moved some of the boxes into the rooms. They had me make up some beds, and make the rooms feel homey.”

“How do you know the kids are our age?” asked Richie.

“I asked Sheriff Bowers if he knew how old they were. He said that Mr. Gray has four boys, three of them are in high school, and the last one will be going to the middle school.”

“I wonder what they’re like,” Richie said.

“I bet they’ll need some friends,” Ben said.

Beverly looked over at her boyfriend and took his hand. A few years back, Ben had been the new kid. He had moved with his mother to live with his aunt and cousin. She figured if anyone knew what it was like to be an outsider in a small town it was Ben.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that Mr. Gray has three kids all in high school?” Stan asked, a frown tugging at his face.

“Stanabelle Lee you worry too much.”

“Shut up, Richie.”

“Sheriff Bowers said that Mr. Gray adopted them,” Beverly said breaking up the imminent fight.

Even so Stan still looked uneasy. “Beverly, you said Sheriff Bowers is friends with Mr. Gray?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well if that’s the case we better hope the kids aren’t like Henry. God knows we don’t need any more tormentors.” 

“Don’t be so dour, Stan the Man. We haven’t even met these guys yet.” Richie said.

“They didn’t seem like Henry,” Beverly said.

“What do you mean?” Ben asked.

“When I was unpacking their stuff it was normal, a little beaten up… but it was nice. They seemed nice.” Beverly didn’t know how to explain how the possessions seemed to hold such love and care in them. How even though they were battered and old they were still important. She had known it the instant she had picked up the first book. She was sure that the new kids were good people, but her comprehension was something beyond what she could explain.

Stan looked at her curiously.

“Everything just had this sense of being beloved by its owners. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Did you see any pictures of them?” asked Richie.

Beverly shook her head. Although what little she had unpacked had been the boys’ personal things there hadn’t been a single photo in the whole lot. She reasoned that that wasn’t strange. Most teenage boys didn’t have a lot of photos of themselves. It had been a little stranger unpacking Mr. Gray’s things. She had been strictly instructed to only make the bed. Sheriff Bowers had watched her the whole time. She shivered at the memory.

“Well I hope you’re right, Bev. Derry could use some more good people,” Stan said.

Beverly reached out and took Stan’s hand in her free one.

“Think of us as their welcome committee, we can make sure they hang out with the right sort for them even if it’s not us.”

Stan smiled softly and nodded.

She knew it was in his nature to worry, and that Henry and his friends had a particular vendetta against him. No wonder he was afraid to have more bullies. But Stan hadn’t seen the things Bev had. He didn’t know how normal they seemed, and smart too. Beverly was sure they were good, and if Ben was right – and he usually was – then they’d be needing some friends right about now.

Conversation turned back to more pedestrian things. They compared schedules, Richie and Stan were taking a bunch of AP and Honors courses together. As much as Richie complained about school he was actually pretty smart. If it weren’t for his friendship with Stan he probably would have given up long ago, but because of the friendly competition between them anytime Stan took an AP or Honors course Richie would join him in it. And Stan always took AP and Honors classes.

Ben and Bev’s schedules were very similar, which suited them. Although they were not one of those couples who believed they needed to spend all their time together, holding hands or making out in front of their peers, they did enjoy one another’s company. They were best friends first, boyfriend and girlfriend second. And things were easier if they were together. They were less likely to be targeted by their bullies. And of course they all had lunch together. Beverly already knew that was going to be her favorite hour of the day. She looked around the clubhouse at her boys and wondered what it would be like to add some new faces to their group.

Richie jabbed Stan.

“OW! What was that for?”

“You’re doing that thing, Stannabelle Lee.”

“What thing?”

“You’re thinking so loudly, I can practically hear you from here.”

“So I’m not allowed to think?”

“Sheesh, you’re not just thinking. You’re overthinking. You always do that when you’re worried about something. You get this pinched sort of look like you’re constipated.”

“I do not!”

“You so do. I worry for your health, Stanny.”

“You’re the worst, Richie.”

“Yeah, I know. So what are you thinking about so hard?”

“Junior year, I guess.”

“What about it?” Beverly asked.

“I’m worried things are going to start changing. We’re going to start looking at colleges, what if we aren’t friends after graduation?”

“Stan, we’ve still got two more years together.” Beverly said.

“I know, I guess you talking about new kids made me realize how much things are gonna change this year.”

“Staniel, you know you’ll always have me. We’re practically womb-mates from another mother.”

“I hate it when you say that,” Stan said.

Richie and Stan’s mothers had gotten pregnant around the same time and had met in a Lamaze breathing class. The two had been born within weeks of one another, a fact that Richie loved to remind Stan, or really anyone in the vicinity, of. Stan was the one to add that he was the older one, much to Richie’s annoyance. They had been friends since they were born, and Beverly figured that Richie would bother Stan into his grave.

Richie laughed. “Stan, I’d follow you even if you went to college on the West Coast. Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Oh goody.”

But they knew he didn’t mean it. Secretly Stan was relieved that he had Richie, that he would always be someone’s favorite. Richie pulled Stan under his arm, and the other boy didn’t even look too upset. Beverly smiled at her boys. No matter what the new year would bring it wouldn’t break their bond.

–

The next day, Stan and Richie were at their lockers waiting for Bev and Ben to show up. As they were talking a group of students came in who they didn’t recognize. Stan figured it must be the group Bev had been talking about. Immediately, Stan’s eyes were drawn to the kid in the lead. There was nothing outstanding about him, but the others seemed to follow him. His shoes and clothes were well worn, but far from ratty. There was a careful consideration in the curve of his shoulders. He ducked his head to keep from making eye contact with anyone, but even so he must of felt Stan’s gaze on him because in that moment he looked up.

Stan’s stomach dropped. The other boy was cute. There was a seriousness to his expression that made him look older than his years. A soft tiredness wrapped around his face, making Stan want to swaddle him in blankets and keep him safe from the world. But underneath that there was the glimmer of something darker, defensive. Dangerous. Stan was curious to get to know the other boy. There were clearly unknown depths to him just waiting to be discovered. Something flickered across the strange boy’s face, too quickly for Stan to register, but it made Stan’s heart flutter.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” A shorter boy to the leader’s left asked.

At first Stan was taken aback, but then he realized the shorter boy wasn’t addressing him. He was addressing Richie. Stan turned to Richie to see a look of utter interest on his best friend’s face. He turned back to the strange group and saw the leader pull the shorter boy away by the elbow.

“What was that?” Stan asked once the group was out of earshot.

“Man I don’t know, but I can tell you one thing.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“This year is going to be interesting.”

Stan rolled his eyes.

“Hey did the new kids get here yet?” Beverly asked as she and Ben joined the others at their locker.

“You just missed them.” Richie said.

“Damn.”

“Maybe we’ll be lucky and they’ll be in our homeroom,” Stan said.

Richie turned to look at Stan. In his staring at the short stranger he hadn’t completely neglected to notice his best friend’s reaction to the group. “Oh yeah, Stan the Man? Hoping to get lucky with one of the new kids?”

“Beep beep, Richie.”

They laughed just as the bell rung.

As luck would have it, all three of the new kids were in their homeroom class.

“Alright, class we have some new students with us this year. Why don’t you introduce yourselves.” Their homeroom teacher said.

The three boys looked uncomfortable at the front of the room. The leader of the group spoke first.

“My name is Bill D-Denbrough.”

“Eddie Kaspbrak.”

“I’m Mike Hanlon.”

“Any relation to the Hanlon’s that used to live around here?” the teacher asked.

Mike’s head shot up, he looked about to say something when Eddie cut in. “No. We didn’t know there was anyone around here with that name.”

“Oh alright then. Where are you boys from?”

“We m-m-moved here from Chicago.” Bill said when it looked like no one else would speak.

“How wonderful. I hope everyone gives you a Big Derry Tigers Welcome.”

There was some tentative applause, but it was enough to cover up Eddie’s snort. The three of them moved to seats in the back as the teacher continued on with attendance and some further announcements.

“Psst.”

Bill turned to see a redheaded girl leaning over to him.

“I’m Beverly.”

“H-hi?”

“What’s your first class?”

“AP English.”

“Stan and Richie have that too. They can show you to class if you’d like.”

“S-sure.”

“What about your friends?”

“Eddie and Mike have p-physics.”

Beverly’s eyes lit up. “My boyfriend Ben and I are in that class too. We can walk them there, if they want.”

Eddie who had been listening to the conversation seemed hesitant, but Mike nodded flashing a confident smile.

“Perfect.” Beverly said. She began whispering to her group of friends, no doubt telling them the plan.

A boy with sandy curls looked over at Bill curiously, before forcing his attention back on the teacher. Once homeroom had finished, Bill was greeted by who he guessed must be Stan and Richie. He recognized them from the hall, because Eddie had wanted to get into an altercation with the dark haired one. While Eddie had wanted to get into several fights in the short walk from the entrance to their lockers, Bill remembered this one because of the boy with sandy curls who had been looking at him. There had been something sweet and honest in his eyes. It was refreshing, and made Bill think that maybe they would survive Derry. He had been filled with a sense of ease.

“Richie Tozier’s my name, and doing voices is my game. Nice to meet you. Beverly tells me you’re going to be suffering in Epping’s AP English Lit course with us,” Richie said offering a hand to shake.

The other boy rolled his eyes, but it was a fond, familiar gesture. “It’s not so bad. Richie just likes to complain. I’m Stan by the way.”

Bill laughed. He figured that Stan must roll his eyes a lot being Richie’s friend.

The two boys led the way through the crowded halls, but were careful to keep Bill included in their conversation.

“D-d-did you guys do the summer reading?” Bill asked.

Richie shook his head. “Nope.”

“Richie can probably do it all tonight if he wanted to. But I spent the past few weeks studying it. Shakespearean English isn’t really my strong suit,” Stan said.

Bill smiled. There was something sweet in the admission.

“Did you l-like it?” Bill asked.

Stan flushed at the attention. “Um yeah. _Henry IV part I_ isn’t the most well read Shakespeare play, but I’m not surprised that Epping had us read it. He likes to expose us to lesser known works. He says it makes us more interesting individuals and better students. What about you? Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah.” A small smile played on Bill’s lips, the only hint of his true passion. He wasn’t ready to admit how much he had related to Henry Percy, or Hotspur, a man baptized in blood and violence who seeks honor the only way he knows how through fighting. He envied the purity in Hotspur’s convictions. He wished he had the same.

“You know,” Stan leaned in conspiratorially, “Richie is quite the Prince Hal.”

“Oh yeah?” Bill’s lips quirked.

“Hey, I take offense at that.” Richie said.

“How can you? You haven’t read the play.” Stan said.

“Fine. I get it. I’ll read it tonight.”

Stan smirked at Bill and for once he felt like he was on the inside of a joke.

– 

After school, Bill went to the middle school to pick up Georgie. Eddie and Mike had offered to go with him, but a small part of him longed to just spend the afternoon with his brother. It would feel like old times, before their parents’ death. He had come to love Mike and Eddie, and a small part of him was thankful to the system for allowing him to meet them. However, he resented Robert and all he had done to twist him into being something he was not. He felt dirty, and sometimes he needed time away. Time with Georgie. It was only around Georgie that he ever felt clean anymore. So Bill walked alone, but at least he was in peace.

When he met Georgie, the other boy started talking a mile a minute about his day. It was nice to hear the cheerfulness in his voice, and to know that Georgie wasn’t quite so fucked up as the rest of them.

They walked down Kansas Street, enjoying the shade of the park to their right. This town was so different than Chicago. Bill could hear birds in the trees. The air was crisp and clean. The wind didn’t feel like it was trying to tear his skin from his body, although he was sure that winter was going to be much worse. But for now the weather was mild.

There were a lot fewer cars on the streets. Less pollution. Maybe, despite Robert, Bill could be clean here. Maybe he could find a way out. He would make friends. Take classes. Think about attending college. It was a nice day dream that melded seamlessly with Georgie’s descriptions of his day.

They continued down Kansas Street. The trees gave way to a gravel pit. In the distance, Bill could see the eaves of their house. He checked his watch. It had taken longer to collect Georgie than he had expected, and Robert would definitely want them back soon.

“Come on, Georgie. Let’s t-take a short c-cut.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Bill plastered a smile on his face which he hoped was believable. “Sure. C’mon.”

The two of them cut their way across sparse grass towards the gravel pit. As the stones crunched under their feet Bill was reminded of all the fights he had had in back alleys or parking lots. He thought of the bloody noses and skinned knuckles he had gotten and his stomach churned. He wondered if this was where it would take place. Men circled around him and another boy, watching them beat each other to within an inch of their lives; taking pleasure in their pain; drinking up the smell of sweat and blood. There was nothing sanctioned about these fights, and the bets were astronomical. Chicago had been a mistake. But if they fucked up here, Bill figured there would be no new starts. This was their last chance.

Bill didn’t realize how consumed he was in his thoughts until Georgie took his hand. His younger brother began leading him through the gravel pit. He must have sensed Bill’s distress, and like the angel he was he pulled Bill from his dark thoughts.

Once they were clear of it, Bill looked once more at the gravel pit. It was ugly, a gash in the earth. He doubted Robert would have them fight here. For one it was too close to their home. And secondly it was awfully out in the open, too risky, even if the town sheriff was in on it. Bill shivered. He longed to be clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will continue to be slow on this fic until I am done Come My Way. However I had to update today because today marks 8 years since I published my first fan fic. I've come a long way, and still have so much to learn. Thanks for joining me along the ride!!  
> Please leave a comment below letting me know what you think, and know that this fic will soon have my full attention.  
> Yrs.  
> TWoW
> 
> PS- in celebration of my anniversary I have also updated Come My Way and wrote a oneshot titled Not Your Mother's Pottery Class. Feel free to check them out. Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

Mike and Eddie had fallen into a tentative fellowship with Beverly and Ben or as close a fellowship as could exist when two members were keeping a giant secret from the others. The four of them shared a lot of classes, and Mike liked how easy conversation and good will seemed to flow from the Beverly and Ben. Although the Derry natives had asked them to eat lunches with them and their friends, Stan and Richie, Mike had declined. Bill had thought it best to keep some distance for the time being, so for now it was just the three of them.

They were sitting in the cafeteria, and Eddie was telling Bill all about their morning. Mike could feel people watching them. Some were curious, others judgmental. But that was alright. Mike was used to be watched. He had learned to tune it out. Besides there was something calming in the rapid-fire rhythms of Eddie’s speech. It was only when Eddie stopped speaking that Mike looked up. Three boys stood just at the edge of their table.

“Hi, you’re Mike Hanlon right?” The one in the lead asked.

“That’s me.”

“I’m Luke, and this is David and Liam. We were wondering if you would want to try out for the football team. We’ve seen you in PE and coach thinks you could do the team wonders. So what do you say? Try outs are this weekend and we’d love to see you out there. Although I gotta warn you our team hasn’t won a game in years.”

Mike’s chest seemed to tighten painfully, but even so an easy smile fell across his lips. “Better not.”

“Not into sports?” Liam asked. 

“Something like that.”

“Shame, you’re really good in PE,” David said.

“No worries, dude. Sorry to interrupt your lunch.” Luke said.

The trio lumbered off. Mike watched them go, his eyes meeting Beverly’s. No doubt she was curious about the exchange. In fact her entire table was staring at them. Mike flushed under their concern. He wasn’t used to those watching him also care for his well being. It was new.

“W-what was that?” Bill asked.

“Hell if I know.” Mike said turning his attention back to his table mates.

Eddie reached for his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. Mike smiled at him. Only Eddie knew how much Mike had wanted to join the football team. How he longed to be a part of a team, but Robert would never allow that. There were too much risk of injury, and Robert would never chance his prizefighter like that. Mike knew too well to curse the unfairness of it all. So he had kept his heartbreak to himself. There was no sense in worrying Bill about it. Bill had so much on his mind. He was always looking for a way out, probably because he had Georgie to think about. It wouldn’t be fair to complain about something as trivial as not being allowed to play football. Only Eddie had figured it out, and confronted him about it on the walk home yesterday. He had seen Mike staring at the team doing warm ups as they left. He had recognized the longing.

“Who’d want to join a team that constantly loses?” Eddie cut into his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Like if you’re trying to recruit people maybe don’t tell them you suck.”

Bill looked at them with some confusion, but Mike understood loud and clear. Eddie was trying to console him.

“You know me, Eddie. I could never play a contact sport. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” How Mike wished that were the truth.

Eddie stared at him, but ultimately let it go. If only so Bill wouldn’t ask what was going on. Eddie began to talk about classes again and Mike wondered if he even possessed gentleness anymore.

–

After lunch Eddie and Mike caught up to Beverly on their way to Algebra II. Richie Tozier saw them coming and while his gaze rested on Eddie he quickly turned his attention back to Beverly.

“We’ll radio later, Marsh. See you later.”

“Bye, Richie. What was that about?” She asked the boys as they approached.

“They wanted me to join the football team,” Mike said.

“Did you say yes?” 

Mike turned to her wondering why he heard hesitation in her tone. He shook his head.

Tension seeped out of her body. “Oh. Cool. And just so you know, you don’t have to feel obligated to be our friends. We just wanted to help you make the transition to Derry High. We won’t hold it against you if you find a crowd you fit in with better.”

“Why? You don’t owe us anything? Why are you being so nice?” Eddie asked.

Beverly looked taken aback.

“Eddie,” Mike started.

“Don’t Eddie me, Mike. I’m serious. What do you think you are going to get out of being kind to us? Do you think that we wouldn't find out that you’re losers? Did you think there would be safety in numbers or that we would be extra punching bags for the bullies? Because that’s not what we’re here for, and I’m sick of people being kind just because they want something from us. Mike and Bill deserve better than that.”

“I just –”

“You what? Pity us?”

“Eddie, enough.” Mike said.

Eddie snapped his mouth shut and took off towards class.

“I’m sorry about him,” Mike said before hurrying off after him.

Beverly was just left there wondering what on earth had caused Eddie to snap.

–

Eddie didn’t say anything about his outburst until they were walking home. By then he felt a little bad about biting Beverly’s head off, but he was too stubborn to apologize to her. However, he was getting damn sick of Mike’s puppy dog eyes begging him to say something.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Eddie.” Mike said.

“I know.”

“So why did you say all that to Beverly? She and Ben have done nothing to cause us to distrust them. Bill even seems to be getting along with Stan and Richie.”

Eddie dropped his shoulders. “I’m just sick of lying. I’m sick of the pity, of being stared at. I’m sick of people thinking they can take advantage of us cause we’re new or don’t know better. I’m sick of getting hurt.”

“Eddie –”

“Stop. You’re pitying me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Mike, I know you and yes you are. I just… I agree with Bill. I think we should keep our distance.”

“Alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure, Eddie. We don’t owe them anything.”

Relief surged through Eddie’s body, but he couldn’t help the tiny bit of guilt that had wormed its way into his heart. Was this isolation what he really wanted? Or was it something Robert wanted. Eddie feared that voice in his head that sounded so much like Robert. He feared it when it praised him and yet he craved the approval. Unlike the others Robert was the only parent Eddie had known. For years he had been alone with that man, and he wondered if those years had done something irrevocable. God, he hoped not.

“Eddie?”

He wanted to take it back. Everything he had said to Beverly, everything he had said to Mike. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He wanted to be able to trust people again. Why couldn’t he?

“Eddie?”

“Huh?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Eddie, it’s never nothing.”

When Robert had adopted Mike it had been a relief. Eddie had never been so grateful to have someone else in his life. Mike became like a brother to him. They shared everything up until now. But Eddie had never told him about his deepest worry. He was afraid that if he did that Mike would tell that it was already too late and Eddie wasn’t sure he could live with that.

“I guess I just feel bad about what I said to Beverly. She didn’t deserve that.” Eddie said.

“It’s okay, Eddie. We don’t have to see them again.”

And even though Eddie knew Mike was trying to comfort him, he was even more afraid of the isolation without Beverly and Ben.

–

They had reached the house on Neibolt Street. Eddie refused to call it home. They could hear Robert moving things about in the attic, and closer to them came sounds of Bill and Georgie in the kitchen. They headed towards the kitchen, but Eddie froze in the door when they got there. 

Georgie sat on the counter. A dark bruise was blooming across Georgie’s cheek. For a moment Eddie tried to convince himself that it was just a shadow, but as soon as the younger boy turned to look at them any belief dissipated.

“Who did this to you?” Eddie’s voice was hollow even in his own ears.

“Some kids at school.” Georgie’s eyes were downcast. Bill returned from the sink with a wet rag. He pressed it against Georgie’s cheek. The boy winced before relaxing into his brother’s hand. As much as Eddie didn’t want to believe that some punk had hit Georgie he knew that Robert would never hit them where there would be evidence. His stomach curled.

“Ice would be better for that.”

Bill shook his head. “He installed the l-locks.”

Robert had a habit of locking up the food and refrigerator when it wasn’t meal times. He insisted that if he didn’t then he would be eaten out of house and home, as four growing boys demand a lot of food. Eddie looked around the kitchen noticing for the first time that all the locks were in place. Robert must have been busy these past few days.

“I can teach you how to f-fight back,” Bill said.

Georgie’s eyes widened, the panic was unmistakable. “No! I don’t want to know. Please, Bill. Don’t.”

Bill’s shock left him – of course his brother didn’t want to know how to fight. Fuck. He was practically doing Robert’s job for him. Guilt and shame flooded his system. “Y-you don’t have to know, G-georgie. I won’t teach you if you d-d-don’t want.”

The tension left Georgie’s body. He relaxed against Bill. “Thank you, Billy.”

Eddie moved closer to the brothers to inspect the bruise more carefully.

“Mike, can you grab my emergency first aid kit from my backpack? There should be some bruise relief gel in there.”

“Sure thing, Doctor K.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, the worry dissolving a little at the nickname.

Mike brought the kit over to him and Eddie began to dig through it.

“All the chickadees home to roost.”

The four boys turned to find Robert blocking the door. It was curious. They had nothing to be ashamed of, but each had a peculiarly guilty look about them as if they had been caught raiding the cookie jar before dinner. Robert strode across the room. Mike and Eddie moved out of his way. Only Bill stood by his brother. Robert eyed Georgie, the boy refused to meet his gaze. He grabbed the younger boy’s jaw, applying particular pressure with his thumb to Georgie’s bruise. The boy gasped, eyes meeting Robert’s. The fear and pain in his big brown eyes was absolutely addictive. 

Bill tensed at his side, but Robert had trained him well enough to know that if he did anything now it would only be worse for Georgie. Robert tilted Georgie’s head to the side, allowing the harsh overhead lighting to strike the bruise directly. He applied more pressure, sensing the boy squirm, before releasing him.

“There’s a fight tonight. I expect you all to be ready by 11 pm.”

“Are they fighting?” Eddie asked.

Robert didn’t even turn to look at him. “No, Edward. They are not. Butch has been kind enough that he wants to show off his prizes tonight, and next time they’ll fight. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Mike said.

“You’ll thank Butch tonight, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“William?”

Bill looked up at Robert, something dangerously close to defiance in his gaze.

“William?”

“Yes.”

Robert raised his hand towards Georgie.

“Sir. Y-yes sir.”

“Good boy. Now enough of this. Clean yourselves up and go to your rooms. Do not disturb me.” Robert left the boys alone in the kitchen flicking the light off as he went.

Even with the daylight the room became instantly colder.

“We can finish up in my room, if you want?” Eddie offered.

The other boys followed him up, eager to leave the darkened kitchen.

–

Once they had finished dressing Georgie’s bruise they started in on their homework. Georgie curled up on Eddie’s bed and fell into a light slumber. Eddie took his desk, the other boys spread out across the floor. Although it was a Friday night, there was no telling what Robert had in store for the weekend. It was better to do their homework now.

“What do you think it’s going to be like?” Eddie asked after he felt like he couldn’t stay silent a moment longer.

“What’s w-w-what going to be like?”

“The fight.”

“The same as anywhere else,” Mike said.

“Where do you think it will happen?”

Bill thought of the gravel pit, it’s maw hungry for blood. It was irrational. Too close to be a smart choice, but still it was awaiting something. He looked over to where Georgie slept, but for once there was no comfort there. Only the reminder of cruelty and violence. Oddly his thoughts turned to Stan. He thought about the other boy’s smile, the twists and turns of his curls, the way his fingers tapped on the desk when he thought no one would notice. Bill tried to remember the hope he had once felt about Derry. He turned to Eddie and Mike. Besides Georgie they were the only ones he could rely on. He wondered if it was enough. If they were enough to get out of this. Would they always be Robert’s playthings, or could they fight their way to freedom?

Bill realized that he hadn’t heard Mike’s answer, and now the conversation had moved on to something else.

The hours passed slowly, the dark encircling Eddie’s room until it felt like the only light left in the world. Below them they could hear Robert moving about, making preparations for the night, but the boys did their best to drown it out.

Bill moved to the bed with Eddie. The smaller boy was curled up in his side talking a mile a minute. Georgie had woken up a while ago and had moved to Eddie’s desk to get some work done. Mike fiddled with Eddie’s old ham radio searching for something. But for the last hour all he had found was static.

“G-give it a rest, Mike.”

“What are you looking for anyway?” Eddie asked.

“Something Richie said.” Mike said. And then like speaking about him had conjured him, Richie’s voice broke through the static.

“Trashmouth to the Losers. Any Losers out there?” His voice was tinny at best. Eddie’s radio was barely strong enough to pick up the signal, but even so it was like Richie was right there.

“Stan Uris here.”

“Stan! I told you you had to use your code name in case we get hacked!”

“Birdboy is here.”

Bill could hear the dry sarcasm from here and could picture Stan rolling his eyes at the name. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the small device in Mike’s hands. “How d-did you know?”

“Richie said he would radio Bev and I just guessed.”

“New Kid reporting for duty.”

“Embers signing on!”

“Then let’s start this meeting of the Losers’ Club!”

“Turn it off,” Eddie said.

“Huh?” Mike asked.

“It’s not right to listen in,” Eddie said grabbing the radio from Mike. He shut it off. “Besides I think if I hear that Trashmouth’s voice any more today I’ll scream.”

“It’s n-not like you even see R-Richie that much.”

“His voice carries.”

Bill looked to Mike for any kind of hint, but Mike just shrugged. Mike didn’t know where Eddie’s rage towards the other boy originated from, but for now he would respect his privacy.

Eddie’s eyes widened, he scrambled away from Bill’s side. “Hide it.”

Mike had just enough time to hide the radio under Eddie’s backpack before Robert came in.

“It’s almost time. Get ready and meet in the front hall. You have five minutes.”

The boys rushed to grab sweaters and jackets, tripping over their shoes as they laced them up. No sense in pissing Robert off over something so trivial. Once they were ready they were lead out to the car. Bill felt a stupid sense of relief. If they had been going to the gravel pit they wouldn’t have needed the car.

They drove away from town in silence. The darkness was full now and the headlights of Robert’s car were barely enough to cut through it. Eddie was curled in the front, legs propped up against the dashboard, shivering in his seat. Mike sat silently behind him. If he was trying to tell where they were going there wasn’t much in his favor. Besides the dark, Robert was taking evasive measures cutting through back roads that seemed more like hard packed earth than asphalt. At times when it seemed they were going one way, Robert would take a sharp left and they would start heading in the opposite direction. Bill felt little hope about knowing where they would end up should he need to run for help. Running would be foolish of course, but knowing where he was hypotetically running from would be an awfully nice thought even if it did him little good. His hold on Georgie tightened.

The car crested over a hill. On the next one stood the remains of a burned farm. Robert slowed the car as they passed it, never taking his eyes off the remains. He let out a little laugh before glancing back at Mike. The other boy dropped his gaze immediately. Whatever Robert wanted him to see was lost on him, and for some reason that seemed to make the man giddy.

They passed the burned farm, and drove past open fields gone to waste. Here there were less trees, and the weak moonlight had bleached the earth. Everything was gray, and Bill couldn’t help but think of a world of ash and bone.

Robert turned into a dusty driveway. The car bounced uncomfortably on the uneven terrain. As they got closer to the house, Bill could see lots of cars parked in front of the house. Light streamed from the windows and the wind brought the faint smell of sweat and booze to the car. Bill had expected there to be more shame, more of an attempt to hide what they were doing, but this? This was out in the open. It felt like a party, and all of the town had come out to watch. And that was much worse than any gravel pit.

Robert must have sensed the boys’ malaise because his smile grew on his face.

“We are to be good guests. If you cause any trouble or embarrass me you will regret it for the rest of your lives.” Robert’s tone was soft and silky, gentle as the glove on the hand that beat you. The boys knew his threat was anything but empty. “Get out.”

They hopped out of the car, clumping instinctively together. Mike and Bill were in front of the smaller boys. They were careful not to touch one another or show any signs of favoritism. There could be no weakness in this world.

Robert led them around to the back of the house. There was already a crowd milling about drinking beers. While it was mostly men there was a surprising number of women there as well. Alarms were going off in Bill’s head when they were approached by the man who must be the host of this event.

“Robert, glad you could make it.” He offered his hand to Robert.

“Butch. I want you to meet my chickadees.”

Butch Bowers studied them with the trained eyes of a drill sergeant. There was something behind his eyes. Something cold and calculating. Every cell in Bill’s body was telling him to run, instead he hollowed himself out. He shut off his fear, and stood a husk of the boy he was. Butch stopped in front of Georgie, and while Bill’s heart clenched painfully in his chest he would not allow it to change his expression.

“You a fighter, boy?”

Robert’s hand curled around Georgie’s shoulder. “Not yet. He’s a little young.”

“Got to get them started young. You know this.”

“He has other uses.”

Butch’s eyes slid across the other boys before resting on Bill. He could spot the tension a mile away. Oh he was trying to hide it, but he wasn’t very good at it yet. The look on his face was unmistakable. Probably was a rebellious little shit. No doubt about it the little one was what kept him in line. God, he looked just about ready to commit murder. Butch liked that. He liked that a lot. He couldn’t wait to watch his Henry beat that out of the other boy.

Butch turned to Mike. The last time he had seen the boy was when he was a young child and he had delivered him to Robert. Now look at him. Returning to a home he didn’t know was his, and a prizefighter at that. Butch wondered what Will Hanlon would have thought about that. Perhaps this was the best revenge, twisting Hanlon’s bastard son into something he couldn’t recognize nor stop. The irony of it all tasted sweet.

“Heard good things about you, boy.” Butch said to Mike.

“Thank you, sir.”

He had manners. Docile and subservient outside of the ring. God, there must be so much rage in there, so much hate and sickness. Yes, they had poisoned Will Hanlon’s son nice and good. And that was better than anything else.

“I’d like you to meet some friends.”

As if summoned two other men came up. They closed off any exits the boys might have had. One looked rather unkempt and reeked of booze. While he seemed a little unsteady on his feet, there was the same sharp analytical look in his eye that Butch had had. Clearly he was interested in the new meat. The other man was much neater. He looked like he had just come from work in his button down shirt and tie. The buttons strained against his gut, he wasn’t as fit as his friends. His job must be more leisurely, and the way he eyed Eddie and Georgie told even more.

“Mr. Keene.” Robert said shaking the neater man’s hand. “We met when I came to pick up –”

“Asthma medication.” Mr. Keene finished. “For Eddie.”

Eddie’s breathing began to hitch, Mr. Keene turned to him and smiled. “That’s alright, Eddie. Use your inhaler like a good boy.”

Eddie resisted for as long as he could, but eventually the burn in his lungs was too much to handle. He grabbed for his inhaler, and as the medicine filled his lungs the smile on Mr. Keene’s face grew. He turned back to Robert.

“Feel free to call me Norbert while we’re here.”

“And this is Alvin Marsh,” Butch said.

The two men meeting shook hands. Upon hearing the man’s name Mike’s facade broke for just a moment. Could this man be Beverly’s father? Did she know what he got up to in his free time? Did she know why Mike and Eddie were really here? Is that why she had befriended them? Mike felt ill, and all he wanted to do was look away. However, Butch was still studying him for some reason and Mike refused to show him his fear.

“Fight’s just about to start, we should head to the barn,” Butch said.

“Lead the way.”

Butch led the men and boys to a barn located at the back of his property. The interior had been stripped away leaving a large empty space big enough for a ring. The ring was lit from above by construction work lights making everything appear more lurid than it already was. Scraps of chain link fence had been installed instead of ropes, and Bill realized that it was a cage. His place in this world had never been so tangible. He was an animal to watch for sport, his humanity didn’t matter. 

Bodies began to crowd in behind them, pushing Robert and the boys closer to the front. Butch left them, heading to the gate in the fence. He unlocked the padlock before stepping in. His face morphed into something almost charming.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen! I hope you got your bets in cause tonight is a special night. We’ve got some great fights lined up for you. And I’d like you all to welcome to the ring, our ref for the night, Frank Dunning!”

An attractive man in his late thirties stepped into the ring. His dark hair was slicked back, and when he smiled boyish dimples appeared. He basked in the cheers, winking at some women who were calling his name.

“Mighty fine to be here, Sheriff.”

“You know on these nights you can call me Butch. I’m just a man like the rest of you, here for some good fights.”

“Well let’s make sure you have them.”

The two men shook hands before Butch left the ring.

“Now who’s ready for some fights?” Frank addressed the crowd.

The cheers were deafening. Eddie moved closer to Mike, pulling his inhaler out of his fanny pack.

“C’mon, folks. That was nothing. I said who’s ready for some fights?”

People stamped their feet and clapped. There were cheers and whistles. The crowd was demanding blood.

“Alright alright. First up we got Unwin v. Garton!”

Two boys were shoved into the ring. The gate was padlocked behind them. Both of them looked disoriented, blinking under the lights. Frank had to lead them to their corners. As he passed by them, Mike could hear him explaining the rules to one of the boys.

“All you got to do is beat him into the ground. Survive three minutes and you survive the round and will get a break. Beat him before eight rounds and you get paid –”

“But we’re friends?” His words were slow and sloppy due to his drugged state and the mouth guard.

“Don’t matter in here, boy.”

Frank shoved the boy into his corner. And Mike felt for them. Why didn’t they know the rules? Why did they have to fight if they were friends? And most importantly why did it look like neither one could stand? And then it hit him. They weren’t willing participants. Somehow they had been forced into the ring. Mike felt sick.

The bell rang and the fight began. The boy who hadn’t asked questions tore out of his corner ready for blood. His friend came a bit more hesitantly, but upon being hit he began to perk up. The punches came quickly from both sides. There was little technique to them, but it wasn’t long before both boys were bleeding.

“What’s wrong with them?” Eddie asked.

“Nothing.” Robert’s tone cut through the cheers.

“They can barely stand.” Eddie said.

At this point it wasn’t clear if their poor coordination was due to the drugs or fatigue. By now it seemed that they had figured out some base strategy. They circled one another, every once and a while lunging for the other. It was pitiful. Mike didn’t understand why people were egging them on. This wasn’t a fight. There was no honor to it. This was brutality.

The bell rang, ending the first round. The boys went to their corners where water was poured on them through the fence. The minute hurried by too quickly for them to properly recover. When the bell rang again they began to circle one another, but the crowd was no longer pleased. 

“Unwin, you fucker. Get in there. Beat his ass!”

“Show him what you can do!”

“Pulverize him!”

“Get in there, boy!”

“Destroy him!”

“Garton stop being a fag!”

Spurred on by the crowd, Garton stepped towards the center of the ring. Unwin stepped back, tripping over his legs. He crashed to the ground. Garton didn’t waste a moment. He jumped on top of Unwin and began pounding his skull into the ground. Fresh blood spurted from his nose, staining the ground. The ref just stood back and watched it happen. The cheers were nothing like Chicago. They were wilder, animalistic at the sight of blood.

At long last Frank pulled Garton off the other boy. He raised his bloody fist, declaring him the winner. The dazed look in Garton’s eye had been replaced by hunger. It was a look Eddie would never forget for the rest of his life. How were Mike and Bill supposed to enter the ring?

The gate was unlocked and Garton staggered out. Two men came and picked up Unwin. They hauled him unceremoniously out of the ring. Two more fighters entered the ring.

Eddie was surprised at how small they looked. Not only that, but there was a sharpness to both of them that Garton and Unwin had lacked. They knew why they were here, and they were excited for it.

“Next up we’ve got Corcoran v. CB!” Frank announced as the cheers settled down. “Now this has been a long awaited fight. And will definitely last longer than two rounds.”

The crowd laughed, already making light of the blood that had been spilled.

The bell rang. The crowd leaned in as the two boys moved to the center. Bill studied their technique. Whereas the last fight had been between newcomers, it was clear that someday he would have to fight the boys in the ring.

The curly haired blond stayed close to his opponent. His style was one of pure aggression. He pounded away at his opponent using a series of uppercuts and right hooks. And he was good. If Bill went up against him he would need to be on the top of his game.

The other boy was doing his best to get out of the blond’s space. Once he was finally able to gain some distance he got in a few jabs before the blond made it back into his zone. For him it was all about defense.

The first four rounds were pretty predictable. And although both boys were slick with sweat they didn’t look ready to stop. If anything they were going harder than they had at the start. It was only their youth which prevented burnout. The blond’s aggressive attacks were tireless, and it was only by the fifth round that the other boy began to make some mistakes.

He wasn’t tired, yet. But his dodges were getting slower. He was having trouble escaping the blond’s attacks. A left hook caught him by surprise and he was down. Before the blond could take advantage the smaller boy rolled away, regaining his footing. He charged the blond, pulling him in. The crowd booed. They didn’t want to watch these boys catch their breath, they wanted a fight to the death.

The blond was able to get in some solid hits. The other boy grunted as each blow landed, but still he held firm. Frank forced an arm between the two boys to separate them. His gesture spoke volumes.

The two boys started their dance again until the bell rang. It was only then the smaller boy showed the beginning of exhaustion. Water was poured on him, and while someone was trying to talk to him through the fence it was clear that he couldn’t hear any of it. Whatever fundamental part of him that was him was gone. Lights out. All that was left was an animal fighting for its life.

The bell rang. Bill sensed that this would be the last round.

The blond held nothing back, he came in for an immediate attack. And while the other boy tried to dodge, his sense of rhythm had abandoned him. A right hook landed. Then a jab. He stepped back out of the blond’s range, but the blond followed. Soon he was against the fence.

The crowd was screaming itself hoarse as the blond beat the smaller boy. The links had made indents in his back, the fence shuddering with each blow. And like before the ref just watched as the younger boy slipped out of consciousness. Only then did Frank pull the blond away.

“We have our winner! CB remains undefeated!”

The crowd roared its approval. CB’s lips curled into a smug smile. His gaze falling directly on Bill. He was sizing the other boy up. Surely thinking about the next time he would be in the ring. While CB sauntered out of the ring, Corrocoran wasn’t so lucky. He was lifted like a sack of flour and taken to some forgotten place until he was able to regain consciousness.

The crowd quieted as Frank rolled up his sleeves. The silence was pregnant with anticipation. He took his time enjoying their impatience. Even so they knew better than to rush him. This too was part of the game. Once he was done he pushed his hair back and looked up into the abyss. The crowd drew in its breath like some ancient beast. They were ready.

“And now the fight you have all been waiting for. In this corner we have Dubay!”

A lanky boy was pushed into the ring. He slunk over to the far corner keeping his head low.

“And in this corner is our reigning champ. You know him. You love him. I give you, Henry Bowers!”

The crowd erupted into applause as the second boy entered the ring.

“Is that –?” Georgie asked.

“Butch’s son. His pride and joy.” Robert’s tone was silky and all-knowing, but even he was curious to see what Butch had taught his son.

Georgie’s worried gaze returned to the ring. It was monsters that made their sons fight for them not men. He watched the teens in horror knowing that someday his brother would be in there and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The bell rung and the fight which ensued was worse than the two that had come before.

Dubay came out of his corner swinging. He clearly had no strategy or thoughts of self preservation. While his style was similar to CB’s, his technique was lacking. And unlike Corrcoran, Bowers didn’t shy away from the fight. Instead he held his ground. His movements were slower, and soon he became predictable. However, there was no doubt about the power behind his hits. The first time he hit Dubay, the boy’s breath was knocked out of him. And that was only the start.

With his opponent disoriented, Bowers would be able to clear his range. Instead he got even closer. Dubay’s next few hits were blocked. While he was trying to regain the upper hand the bell rang, and the fighters moved to their corners.

The next few rounds were a dizzying display of stamina and aggression. This was only fueled by the crowd. While the majority seemed to be in favor of Bowers, there were some that cheered for Dubay.

During the sixth round, Bowers aimed directly for Dubay’s liver. The shovel punch hit true. Dubay was left gasping, doubled over. Bowers took his shot. He delivered hit after hit, forcing Dubay back towards the center of the ring.

Dubay raised his hands, either in defense or supplication, but it did him no good. Bowers knew that he had him. He was saved by the bell, although perhaps it would have been kinder to let the fight end there.

The next minute had the crowd on edge. They were eager to see their champion beat Dubay. No one was cheering for him, every voice called for Bowers’ success.

Butch was whispering in Bowers’ ear, and the smile on the boy’s face hid nothing of his enjoyment. He was a hunter, and this was his sport. Although angry bruises were beginning to form across his ribs and chest it was nothing compared to the state of Dubay. His entire form collapsed on the right side. While there were fewer bruises, the ones that had begun to show were much bigger. His knuckles were raw, his wrappings stained red. The skin around his left eye was starting to puff up, and soon he wouldn’t be able to see out of it. Everyone knew he didn’t stand a chance, and they were hungry for his fall.

The bell rang.

Dubay limped out his corner. His fists already raised when Bowers struck his first blow. Dubay staggered back. He attempted a rally, but Bowers was already on him. Hit after hit came. The sound of flesh against flesh broke through the sound of the crowd. There was the scent of sweat and blood hanging thickly in the air.

And from the ring came laughter.

Henry Bowers laughed.

The fight drew closer to its end. The crowd pressed in on all sides, forcing Georgie and the others closer to the fence. Georgie expected to feel the chain link against his cheek. Instead he was pushed into someone’s back. He looked up to see his brother, who moments before had been at his side, now pressed into the fence.

“You shouldn’t see t-t-this.” 

Georgie could barely hear his brother over the screams. He buried his head into Bill’s hoodie, and put his hands over his ears hoping to muffle the sound. He prayed that it would end soon.

Eddie didn’t get so lucky. He watched the conclusion of the match. He wanted to vomit as he watched Dubay’s blood spill. Henry never stopped laughing. Not even once he was declared the victor. Of all the horrible things he had seen and heard tonight, surely this was the worst. He looked up at Mike and Bill. Their expressions said nothing, but Eddie knew they were frightened. One glance behind him, and even in the dim light Eddie could make out Robert’s teeth. The man was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY. Please let me know what you thought!!! Do you hate me yet?  
> The next chapter will be on the shorter side and will hopefully be up soon. I have returned to work so I cannot update as frequently as before, but I promise to keep working on this story. Thank you for your support!  
> Yrs.  
> TWoW


	4. Chapter 4

“Shakespeare wrote a lot about fathers and sons. Perhaps his greatest example being _Hamlet_. But I didn’t ask you to read _Hamlet_ this summer. I asked you to read _Henry IV pt. 1_. Now why do you think that is?” Jake Epping looked around his class to find not a single person ready to answer. He thought that whoever it was in admin who had created the schedule had played a rather nasty trick on these children, placing honors English first thing on a Monday morning. But that wouldn’t stop him from teaching, and by no means should it stop his students from learning. He would wait patiently all class until someone organized their thoughts enough to formulate an answer. Students were beginning to shift uncomfortably in their seats as the silence drew out. Luckily for them the new kid raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Denbrough?”

“B-b-because it is a play of a-action. Hamlet as a c-c-character is all about inaction. He d-d-doesn’t know what to d-d-do so he hesitates until the v-v-very end. There are m-many t-t-times where H-Hamlet could have acted b-b-but didn’t. He was in his own head, but H-Hal and Hotspur/P-Percy are characters of a-a-action. They’re d-d-doers.”

“Very good, Bill.”

“Showoff.” A voice came from the back of the classroom.

Bill felt the blood rush to his neck. He hadn’t meant to talk so much. He hated talking in class, but he had felt bad for Mr. Epping. No one was answering him and he had looked so excited.

“That’s enough, Miss Keene.” Mr. Epping said. “As Bill said, Hal and Percy are characters of action. They are both acting honorably – even though they are on opposing sides. And while they are adults it is clear that their actions are strongly driven by their fathers and quasi-fathers. Would anyone care to discuss?”

Stan raised his hand. Mr. Epping nodded at him.

“At the start King Henry the Fourth is disappointed by Hal’s lack of drive. He actually states that he wishes Percy were his son. Percy is much more honorable than Hal, and he obeys his father’s wishes. However, the Percys are at odds with the crown because they feel that Henry IV has betrayed them. So Percy starts an uprising with Glendower, King of Wales; his father; his brother-in-law, and his uncle.

This forces Hal to return to his father. He had been spending time with Falstaff, who became a quasi-father to Hal and had been a poor influence. But Hal knows this and only spends time with him so that his return can be all the more glorious. He promises his father that he will restore his name by killing Percy. He then saves his father during the battle, and kills Percy thus keeping his promise.”

“That’s a good summary, Mr. Uris. But I challenge you to go deeper.”

“Sir?”

“Take for example Percy and Hal. They are both rebelling against authority, but why do we see one as honorable and the other as a layabout?”

“Percy is fighting for his family while Hal is rejecting them.”

“Very good.” Epping turned to the class. “Mr. Uris has uncovered one of the hearts of this narrative. Children naturally reject the beliefs of authority figures, often parents, in favor of their own. Hotspur rejects the King’s authority, placing his family before the law. Hal places a life of pleasure before responsibility. It is only when his father orders him to come home that returns to his duties and becomes the man his country needs. He rejects Falstaff as a false father – interestingly seen in the scene where Falstaff pretends to be the king – and rejoins society. Yes, Miss Fadden?”

“This play is sexist.”

“How so?”

“There are only three women in it.”

Epping let out a little laugh, “I’m not sure that that qualifies it as being sexist. Would you care to elaborate?”

“The three women aren’t important. They’re just wives and the innkeeper.”

“I’d argue that they are very important.”

Marcia glared up at Epping, challenging him to go on.

“Would anyone else like to defend Kate, Mistress Quickly, and Mortimer’s Wife?”

Richie raised his hand. “They show the humanity of these men.”

“Women shouldn’t be needed to show the qualities of men.” Greta cut in.

Richie rolled his eyes. “Obviously. But this was a different time, and sorry, ladies, but the roles of women were sorta limited back then. The only exception being Queen fucking Elizabeth.”

Stan leaned over to shove Richie.

“Sorry Mr. Epping.” Richie said.

Epping looked amused and gestured for Richie to continue. 

“Anyway, the women show that it isn’t all battle and glory. For example, Hotspur is a hot head, but he cares about Kate. He’s his best when he’s with her, and yeah some of what he says is condescending but he still loves her. Much in the same way that Mistress Quickly is devoted to Falstaff and Mortimer to his wife. The female perspective is important as it offers commentary on male ambition. It expands the world view, and reminds the audience that these men are human.”

Bill studied Richie. He still hadn’t gotten used to Richie’s brilliance. He was impressed.

“Miss Fadden? Miss Keene?” Epping asked.

“Whatever.” Marcia said. Greta shrugged indifferently.

“Alright, I’d like to examine something Mr. Tozier said. You called Hotspur a hot head. So let’s talk about flaws. We can start with Hal or Percy. We can even address King Henry and Falstaff. But let’s start a discussion.”

Bill tuned out as the conversation wove around Hal and Falstaff. He had very little interest in their glaring faults. It was too easy with them. They chose immorality and ease over virtue and honor. Some of the other students defended Hal, saying that he came around, but Bill didn’t buy it. Secretly he was upset that it was Hal who slayed Hotspur.

“– tl;dr Hotspur’s greatest flaw is he doesn’t listen.” Richie said.

Bill was pulled from his own thoughts.

“W-what?”

“Welcome back, Mr. Denbrough.” Epping said with a laugh. “And what have you to say on the matter.”

“H-h-h… Percy l-listens.”

“Dude the fact that you didn’t listen to my speech about Hotspur not listening is comical.”

“To be fair, Richie, I tune you out when you get grandiose and put on airs.” Stan smiled at Bill, and all at once he felt like he was on the inside of the joke again. How was Stan so good at drawing him in like that?

“Boys, enough. Mr. Denbrough, if Hotspur’s flaw isn’t a lack of attention what do you think it is?” Epping asked.

Bill felt a dozen eyes bore into the back of his neck. He looked to the desk beside him and found Stan watching him too. For some reason he didn’t mind the other boy’s gaze quite so much as the others. There was something sunny in the tentative smile that warmed Bill to the core.

“Hotspur is stubborn. He w-w-won’t give in to the King’s demands and even when his father and G-glendower are delayed he d-d-decides to fight. He has to f-f-fight for his family.” Bill was not unaware of the parallels between himself and the tragedy-destined knight. He would not allow Richie or really anyone else to speak poorly of a man he viewed a hero, a man he wanted to be. To have Hotspur’s courage to stand up against the monarch who had wronged his family was everything to Bill. Because if Hotspur could do it, face the terrible odds and be a hero, then didn’t that mean someone like Bill Denbrough could do it too?

He looked over to Stan curious to see what he would say. Bill wouldn’t be surprised if Stan sided with Richie. After all he had known Richie much longer. If he did he would be just like everyone else. To Bill the world was divided. On one side there was Georgie, Eddie, Mike, and him; on the other was everyone else. Bill didn’t want Stan to be just like everyone else, but he knew better than to get his hopes up.

“I agree with Bill.” Stan said. “Hotspur may not listen to Glendower or his father, but he listens to Kate. Like others have stated she humanizes him. He doesn’t want to involve her in his troubles, but she wants to be there. It’s his stubbornness which pushes him to his end. But it is also what makes him stand up for what he believes is right. He may be hot headed, but he’s honorable and good. He’s a hero.”

Bill didn’t look away from Stan as he spoke. He had never felt so validated in his life. Not by Eddie or Mike who were family. Not by his brother who was his blood. Not even by his parents who had loved him if not understood him. There was a rawness to his vulnerability that was inescapable. For the first time since his parents’ death, Bill trusted someone other than those in his immediate circle. And while Stan wasn’t quite on the side of his family, he certainly was no longer on the side of everyone else. Bill realized he would need a new category for Stan. He thought that if he were ever ready to confess his sins, Stan would be the one to which he could turn. And that was a terrifying thought.

“Jeez, Staniel. You’d think you’re in love with the guy.” Richie’s voice broke through his thoughts.

The class laughed.

Stan blushed, and Bill loved how the pink shaded his cheeks. He tried to capture it in his memories so that he could use it in his writing. There was something sweet in its innocence, naive and pure. He forced himself to look away.

The bell rang and the class began to scramble to pack their things.

“Just a reminder we will be having a quiz on the text next period. Also please complete the reading from _The Illiad_ and be prepared to discuss the beliefs on honor through warfare. Class dismissed.” Mr. Epping said, his voice raised to be heard over the noise.

“Wow, Big Bill. Never heard you talk so much in Epping’s class.”

“Lay off him, Richie.”

Richie raised his hands. “It’s nice. I like having someone who’ll verbally spar me. Stan here is too sissy.”

“Beep beep.”

Richie laughed.

“I think I could t-t-take you.”

“Stutter and all?”

“RICHIE!”

But Bill didn’t mind, he knew Richie didn’t mean it like that. Instead he smirked. “F-f-forget verbal sparring, I bet I could t-take you in a fight.”

Richie raised a brow. “No offense, but have you seen yourself? You’re lanky as hell.”

“Have you looked in a mirror?” Stan asked.

“Good point, but I mean, this guy couldn’t take anyone in a fight.”

They were getting dangerously close to the truth, but damn this was fun. “Clearly you’ve never been to S-Southside.”

“Don’t tell me you got into fights.” The worry on Stan’s face was too cute.

“D-dozens.”

“As if!” Richie laughed.

“W-won a couple too.” Bill didn’t usually brag about his fights. He didn’t talk about them. Period. But this was a game. If he didn’t take it seriously neither would the others, and damn did it feel good to be honest for once.

“Well do me a favor and don’t get into any fights here. I’m sure the bullies aren’t worse than Chicago, but you don’t want to mess with Bowers.” Stan said looking over his shoulder.

“B-bowers?” A chill ran down Bill’s spine.

“Nasty son-of-a-bitch. Got a fucking mullet like it’s the 80’s. He runs a crew, Hockstetter, Belch, Vic, Gordon. They’re nasty. Steer clear of them, Big Bill.” Richie said.

“Promise me you won’t pick any fights with them?” Stan asked.

Bill looked at him. The other boy looked petrified. What had they done to him? And as much as Bill wanted to reassure the other boy he couldn’t force the words past his lips. Bill’s good mood left him, and he fell back into a dark silence.

Behind his back Richie and Stan shared a look, wondering what had just happened.

–

In another hall, Beverly and Ben were leaving the physics classroom. Eddie had given them the cold shoulder the entire morning, and even Mike who was usually friendly had seemed distant. Both boys were in their own worlds, and when the teacher had called on them they hadn’t had much to say.

“Something’s going on.” Beverly said as she watched the two boys disappear into the crowd.

“Not everything is a mystery. Maybe they just aren’t ready to make friends.”

Beverly rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Ben. I would be fine if they didn’t want to be our friends, but they aren’t reaching out to anyone. Even Richie said that Bill is hardly present most of the time. It’s like they can’t put down roots. There has to be something wrong.”

“It hasn’t even been two weeks. It took me a while before I found you, Richie, and Stan. Give them some more time. Not everything is a mystery that needs solving, Nancy Drew.”

Beverly laughed at the nickname. “If I’m Nancy Drew what does that make you?”

“Her boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, obviously.”

“And Richie and Stan?”

“The Hardy boys.”

Beverly let Ben distract her with images of Stan and Richie in matching sweater sets. She let the delight and hilarity of it all carry her away. But in the back of her mind she resolved to getting to the bottom of it all. There was something those boys were hiding, and Beverly was going to find it out. Consider Nancy Drew on the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a little different. I wanted to give you a break from the violence as it will return soon. I've been sitting on this chapter since Wednesday and have been so excited to share it. Please let me know what you think as I know it's different than previous chapters.  
> Thank you for your continued support and enthusiasm!  
> Yrs.  
> TWoW  
> PS - next chapter and we're back in the ring, babies. So be prepared.


	5. Chapter 5

The next fight night was that Friday, and this time Mike and Bill were scheduled to fight. Bill didn’t like the idea of fighting in the cage, there was something about the chain link fence that was worse than the back alleys in Chicago, or the swimming pool in Las Vegas, or the boxing ring of a closed gym in the Bronx. There had been some decency there, and while Bill was fighting for other men to bet on, he was still human. In the cage he was nothing but an animal.

The drive out to the Bowers’ farm was tense. Eddie grasped his inhaler tightly to his chest, his breath already uneven. Since getting into the car Georgie had not let go of Bill’s hand. He didn’t know the next time he would be able to hold his brother’s hand after tonight, and he wanted to give his brother as much comfort as possible. Mike was staring out the window. His body showed no fear or anxiety. The perfect image of the calm before a storm.

“I want you to throw your fights.”

Mike and Bill’s attention snapped to Robert.

“What?” Mike asked, his body already bunching up as if ready to spring forward.

“Consider it common courtesy. A way to thank our hosts for inviting us.”

“Are we g-going to have to do this every t-t-time?” Bill asked.

“Certainly not. Where is the fun in that? Butch just wants to make an example of you tonight. That’s all.”

“And if we don’t agree?” Mike asked.

Robert jammed on the breaks. The seat belt dug uncomfortably into Bill’s sternum as his neck snapped forward. Robert turned in his seat and glared at Mike.

“You wouldn’t dare disobey me.” His tone was soft as a whisper.

Mike didn’t flinch. He just stared down Robert, brown eyes meeting blue.

“I don’t throw fights.”

In the history of living with Robert he had never asked them to lose on purpose, just another reason why Derry was different. Bill knew that Mike took pride in his fights. For him there was an honor and dignity. It wasn’t about beating up another guy, it was about out thinking his opponent. To throw a fight was dirty. It meant that the blows weren’t strategic, but violent. Bill watched Mike carefully.

“You will tonight.” Robert said.

“I won’t.”

Robert twisted around. He grabbed Mike’s throat and forced him back into his seat. The movement was awkward as the bigger man was constrained by his own seat belt and the limited space of the car, but even so Mike’s breath was knocked from him. His breathing took on a choking sound even worse than Eddie’s. Mike tried to bring his arm up to push Robert off, but the other man was stronger. 

Robert pushed him back again. 

Mike’s head hit the headrest; the gagging sound increased.

Eddie shoved his inhaler in his mouth, his own lungs burning. He wished he could do something to stop Robert, but all he could do was watch. Tears had begun to form in Mike’s eyes. He must be dying for air at this point.

Georgie moved away from Mike, practically falling into Bill’s lap. This was too much. He knew Robert could be violent, but never on fight nights. Mike and Bill were his pride and joy on fight nights, to harm them was to harm the merchandise. If he was willing to go this far now, what would prevent him from going farther in the future?

Mike was getting really desperate now. He kicked the back of Eddie’s seat to no avail. He grappled at the seat belt, and tried to shove Robert off.

“You are throwing the fight, Michael. If you don’t I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.” This time Robert diverted his gaze to Eddie.

The small teen curled up further in his seat, but he didn’t look away from Robert. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction while Robert had Mike in such a vulnerable position. 

Mike stopped struggling. He looked up at Robert and Robert knew that he had won. He released Mike’s throat. The teen made a terrible gagging sound as he tried to breathe in as much air as possible.

“Is that understood? Have we come to an understanding? You will throw the fight tonight, and any night that I tell you. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.” His words were slurred, having a liquid quality to them that didn’t sound healthy.

Robert turned around and continued the drive out to the farm.

–

Like last week, the farm was lit up like there was a party. The cool night breeze did nothing to defray the scent of booze and sweat. Drunken voices rose up from the backyard like cicadas in the summer. There was a glow from the house, warm and bright, and Eddie was certain that this was what hell must look like. The devil himself was on his throne. Robert was welcomed into the throng immediately, Butch ceding his place at the head of his group to him. If Robert was the devil, then Butch was his chief lieutenant. 

“These the fighters?”

Eddie turned to find Frank Dunning, last week’s referee, had approached them.

“Yes.” Robert replied, pushing Bill and Mike forward.

“I’ll take them to get their hands wrapped. They can wait out behind the barn with the others.” Frank said.

“Wait!” Eddie said finding his nerve. “I usually wrap their hands.”

Frank looked him over. 

“Please, sir. Let me go with them. It’s tradition.” His voice lowered as the men around him laughed.

“What’s the harm, Dunning? Boy might prove to be useful.” Eddie turned to find Mr. Keene smiling down on him. While he didn’t like the way the old man was looking at him he felt some relief that one of the grown ups was siding with him.

Frank looked to Robert then Butch. Butch shrugged. “Let ‘im do it. Just watch him like a hawk. No cheap tricks.”

This last part had been addressed to Robert. Robert glared at Eddie, probably embarrassed by the display, but ultimately he let him go. Dunning grabbed Mike and Bill roughly by their arms and led them away to the barn. Eddie followed. He looked once over his shoulder and regretted it. The men had continued on like nothing had happened. Georgie was left in Robert’s grasp looking like a lamb surrounded by a pack of wolves. He didn’t take his eyes off of his brother for an instance, and Eddie realized that Georgie was worried that he might never see his brother walking on his own again. He hastened after Dunning determined to do everything in his power to protect his family.

By the time Eddie reached the side of the barn he saw that Dunning was stripping them of their shirts. He threw them to Eddie. Then he took out two pairs of handcuffs and handcuffed them to a hitching post.

“Is that necessary?” Eddie asked.

“Don’t want them to run off.”

“Do you do this to all your fighters?” 

Dunning sneered. “Just those who aren’t what you’d call willing participants.”

Eddie gulped.

“Get to it, fag. I don’t want to be standing here all night.” Dunning glanced over his shoulder to where the sound of people having a good time was coming from.

Eddie moved towards his friends. He pulled the boxing wraps from his fanny pack. First he did Mike. Careful not to look up at the bruises that were already forming around the teen’s neck he held Mike’s left hand and wound the fabric around his wrist before going to his hand and then between the fingers. Three times around the wrist. Three across the hand. Three X’s between the fingers. Twice around the thumb, and then three times around the knuckles. He could feel Dunning’s eyes on him, searching for anything that could be considered cheating, but he did his best to tune it out. This was part of the ritual, something both he and Mike needed before the fight. Georgie had been begging him to teach him how to do it so that he could wrap Bill’s hands, but Eddie hadn’t done it yet. Part of the reason being that Bill didn’t want his brother to know anything about this world and another part was that Georgie had been too young. But now they might be approaching a time when Georgie needed to know. Eddie figured that he would have to teach him soon whether Bill liked it or not.

Once he was done with Mike’s left hand he did the right. He wound the wrapping across Mike’s wrist repeating the process. Three. Three. Three. Two. Three. He counted in his head. With each turn of the wrapping he sent a prayer up to whatever might be watching over them. He hoped that if there was such an entity that it was kind and that it would protect Mike and Bill.

“You have to throw the fight,” Eddie said so Dunning wouldn’t hear him.

“Eddie –”

“No. I need you alive. Do it. For me.”

Mike was silent.

“Please.”

“Yeah. Alright.”

“Aren’t you done yet?” Dunning asked.

Eddie checked the velcro around the wrist before moving to Bill. He repeated the process. The counting. The prayers. He didn’t rush, if he did he was likely to make a mistake and a mistake could cost him his friends’ lives. He was careful and sure that everything was done properly. He didn’t need to tell Bill what to do because despite Bill’s rebellious nature he wouldn’t do anything that would put Georgie in harm’s way. Once that was done he pulled their mouth guard cases out from his fanny pack and handed them to his friends. When he was finished, Dunning grabbed his arm and led him back to where Robert was waiting.

As they rejoined the group, Eddie could feel Keene’s eyes on him. Clearly he was interested to know how he had done. Instead Eddie turned towards Georgie. The smaller boy was shaking in the cool air, and once Eddie was close enough he clung to him.

“Did you do it? Are they going to be alright.”

Eddie thought about the ritual and he nodded. He had done it right and so they would be safe. They had to be.

“You’re going to teach me soon, right? So I can be there instead of being left alone. Please, Eddie? I don’t like being alone with these men. I want to help.”

“Yeah. I’ll teach you.”

Georgie hugged Eddie properly then. The men around them laughed at their open display of affection. Eddie held the smaller boy and sent up one final prayer. He didn’t want them to be left alone with Robert. Of everything that had happened that would be the cruelest of all.

Eddie tried to tune out the conversation around them. Instead he focused on people watching. He was curious what sort of people chose to watch illegal fighting on their Friday night. Like before most of them were adult men and a few women. However, now that he was looking more closely Eddie could make out some boys closer to his age.

They stood in a pack, just outside the sphere of noise and light, their faces half in shadow. Every so often men would come up to talk to the tallest boy. It would be a brief exchange that ended in a handshake. As Eddie studied them he realized that the boy was a bookie taking bets for the fight ahead. It was only after one exchange that forced the group to move further into the light that Eddie recognized them.

The boy taking the bets was none other than Peter Gordon, a preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t know him super well since he was in a lot of Bill’s classes, but he had certainly seen him around the halls. The other two boys who were standing with him were none other than Vic Criss and Reginald “Belch” Huggins. Those two Eddie was much more familiar with. They were in his Algebra II class with him and both dumber than a box of rocks. Eddie figured that they didn’t even know how taking bets worked, they were just there to provide muscle should Gordon need it.

Eddie watched as Gordon whispered something to Vic. The other boy nodded before disappearing into the crowd. Due to his short stature it was a little difficult to trace his path, but eventually he reappeared by the back door to the Bowers’ farmhouse. Sitting on the stoop were two other boys.

Eddie recognized Henry immediately. The other boy he knew by reputation only. Patrick Hockstetter. Eddie knew better than to approach either of them in school. While Gordon and his friends might just beat him up on their own if the other two were there it would no doubt escalate. Ben had told him to stay away because once Patrick and Henry had caught Stan alone and had pushed him into the snow. They had held him down, and scrubbed his face raw with snow, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process. And while Eddie wasn’t close with Stan he still didn’t like hearing the story.

By now Vic had finished his conversation with Patrick and Henry. Instead of watching him retreat, Eddie kept his eyes on the two boys on the stoop. Patrick had pulled a lighter out of his pocket and began to flick it on, release, on, release. He never took his eyes off the flame.

Henry took a swig of beer before he began to wrap his hands. So he was fighting tonight. Eddie hoped that Henry wouldn’t be fighting Mike or Bill. He prayed that it was someone else, anyone else. Henry spit onto the ground before telling Patrick something. Patrick rolled his eyes and put the lighter away. He tugged off his shirt, before reaching for wrappings of his own. Eddie didn’t know what Patrick’s fighting style was, he could just hope that their luck would hold and neither Bill nor Mike would find out in the ring.

Finally it was time for the fights to begin. Robert pushed Georgie and Eddie in front of him. However, this time he left them alone at the edge of the cage in order that he could be closer to the far corner. Alvin Marsh, Mr. Keene, and another man they didn’t know blocked them in. They had front row seats and no way out.

Butch stepped in promising a wonderful night of fights before introducing Frank Dunning. Frank entered the cage to thunderous applause. He basked in the moment, shook Butch’s hand, before he held his own up for silence. A hush fell over the crowd.

“Tonight we’ve got several fights lined up for you! And on top of that we have some new fighters hailing all the way from Chicago. But before we can give them a proper Derry welcome, let’s give it up for our first fighters, Hockstetter v. Garton!”

The crowd cheered.

–

From where they were chained Bill and Mike could hear the beginnings of the first fight. Since being chained up one more person had been added to the post, but he kept to himself and didn’t seem in a talkative state. Hearing the fight from out here was worse than being in the barn. Dread and anticipation grew at a surprising rate and even Mike was having trouble remaining calm. His palms sweat in the wrappings. His heart beat faster. Any sense of control that he had felt he had had began to slip away. He was Robert’s prize fighter, and nothing was going to change that. Not joining the football team. Not finding friends. All he had was what was in the ring, and tonight he didn’t even have that. Robert had stripped that away from him too.

The first fight ended. Two men came to collect Bill. As Mike watched him being led away he had never felt so lonely.

–

Entering the barn as a fighter was an entirely different experience. The crowd’s anticipation threatened to drown Bill as his escorts pushed their way through bodies rank with sweat. Above the sound of ragged breathing Bill could hear Dunning holding court.

“– our next fight is something quite special as welcome the first of our fighters blown in from the Windy City itself.”

Attention shifted away from Dunning to Bill as the cage gate was unlocked. Roughly he was shoved into the ring. There were some laughs as he stumbled and tried to regain his balance. He could hear the click of the lock.

“In this corner,” Dunning gestured to the far corner, “we have Denbrough!”

There were some cheers, but mostly people were booing. Bill did his best to keep his chin up as he walked towards the far corner where Robert stood just beyond the fence. He tried not to look at Eddie and Georgie, who had been shoved towards the front on the cage’s left hand side. There was nothing he could do to comfort them. Not now.

“And in this corner, you know him, you love him. CB!”

The crowd went wild as CB entered the ring. He hadn’t been shoved in, Bill thought bitterly. He pushed those thoughts away. They wouldn’t help him survive. He studied CB as he entered, searching for any possible weaknesses. He knew he wasn’t going to win this fight, but he wasn’t going to lie down like a dog either. He intended to get a few good shots in before he went down.

Unfortunately, CB didn’t seem to have any weaknesses. He was young and cocky. He knew that he was going to win and he didn’t fear whatever it was that Bill might try to throw at him. Bruises and cracked ribs could heal, hell the pain wouldn’t even be bad once the adrenaline of the kill started to flood his system. No he wasn’t worried. He was untouchable.

“Remember our deal,” Robert whispered as the crowd psyched themselves up for the next fight.

Bill nodded as he slipped the mouth guard in.

“And make it look good, or Georgie’s going to regret having you for a brother.”

Bill ducked his head.

Robert looked to the opposite corner to see Butch talking to his nephew. He finished and met Robert’s gaze. The two men nodded. Dunning raised his hand. The bell rung.

Bill started towards the center of the ring. He was still assessing CB’s style when the other boy met him in the ring.

CB aimed a hook, but had misjudged the distance. He missed. Bill was able to step out of his range, and changed direction. The crowd jeered showing their displeasure. 

So CB was an infighter. He liked getting close and wearing his opponents down. Typically Bill’s style would have advantage over CB. He was more mobile and didn’t need to get as close. But this wasn’t a typical fight. He thought about Georgie and he let CB get near him.

Once CB was in range he aimed a jab for Bill’s ribs. The air was knocked from Bill’s lungs. He stumbled back and as tried to catch his breath CB aimed another punch for the same spot.

Hot pain radiated from his ribs. Each breath became a battle for air. Now he knew how Eddie must feel. Fuck. Eddie. Georgie.

There were cries of pleasure as CB punched Bill again. Using his peripherals, not caring about what CB did to him now, Bill searched for Eddie and Georgie.

Where were they?

Another jab.

Desperation and panic rose.

Right hook to his shoulder.

He needed to get his arms up.

There.

Georgie and Eddie. They were surrounded by a clump of men who were waving their arms cheering. All the noise fell away as Bill looked to his younger brother. There were tears in his eyes. Eddie, valiant, saintly Eddie, was trying to turn his head so that he wouldn’t see the beating Bill was taking. But Georgie was stubborn. He kept his eyes on his older brother mouthing the prayer Mommy had taught him to say at bedtime.

The bell rang. The first round was over.

Bill moved to his corner. Ice cold water was dumped over his head. He began to shake due to the shock.

“I told you to make it good. Don’t just be Connor’s punching bag, you stuttering halfwit. You don’t get to lose until at least round five.” Robert’s hiss cut through the noise.

Bill nodded. When the bell rang he was ready.

He entered the ring, fists up in a defensive position. He circled CB waiting for the other boy to make his move. As CB moved closer Bill shot a right hook to the boy’s cheek. The blond’s head tilted unnaturally. Bill could hear his neck crack. When CB made eye contact again there was murder in his eyes. This round he left nothing back. He charged Bill and unleashed a relentless attack of uppercuts and hooks. Pain bloomed vividly and was replaced by a steady ache.

After an especially well-landed uppercut by CB, Bill tasted the blood. Its bright metallic pungency filled his mouth. He saw red. He managed to avoid CB’s next hit while landing one of his own. The crowd booed. He wasn’t able to keep up the momentum and soon CB was on him again.

The bell rang, but Connor kept punching. He didn’t stop until Dunning forcibly removed him. It seemed that he had a taste for blood.

When Bill reached his corner he found a straw shoved through the fence. Apparently his performance had earned him a drink. The water was warm and stale, but to Bill it felt magnificent. Robert pulled the straw from him before he could empty the glass.

“Better, Denbrough.”

He glanced over his shoulder to see where Eddie and Georgie were. He was unable to find them in the crowd.

“Focus.”

Bill turned back to Robert.

“Change of plan. You need to lose next round. Got it?”

Bill nodded once. He knew better than to ask what he was getting out of this deal. Besides he wasn’t sure how much longer he wanted to stay in the ring with Connor. The teen was a menace. Soreness was beginning to set into his bones. He was getting tired.

Bill could sense movement beyond the lights of the ring. The crowd was thirsting for blood. He looked to Butch, awaiting for his version of the thumbs down used in gladiatorial events, awaiting the sign of death.

Butch nodded to Dunning; the bell rang. 

CB charged at Bill. The first hit landed squarely behind Bill’s ear. For the next few seconds all he could hear was a dull buzz. The next hit was a shovel punch. It missed his liver by sheer dumb luck, but Bill still felt like he couldn’t keep going. He pulled CB into a hold, his only chance for respite, but Dunning shoved them apart.

This was it. It was going to hurt like hell tomorrow, but it would end the fight. Bill moved into CB’s range. He dodged the first punch, and got in a final jab. CB punched Bill in the face. Hard. His vision blacked out for a moment and somehow he was on the ground.

The taste of dust mixed with the blood in his mouth. He began to choke. CB’s weight landed squarely on top of his chest, compressing his lungs even more. Every breath hurt. Through the wrappings Bill could feel CB’s knuckles with each punch. It was never going to end. Bill shut his eyes willing it to stop.

It was enough.

Distantly he could hear CB declared the winner. He got to walk out of the cage with his dignity. Someone picked Bill up with little regard for his bruised ribs. The air was once more knocked from his lungs. He was carried past an indifferent crowd, out of the heat of the lights and bodies. He was dropped unceremoniously somewhere that was cool and dark. His instincts told him to look around, to find out more about Derry and Butch, to ensure that he was safe. But the pain was getting to be too much. He struggled for air. The smell of sweet hay and dry rot filling his lungs before he passed out. He would remain immobile until Robert sent Eddie and Georgie to him.

–

Waiting alone gave Mike a lot of time to think. He tried not to worry about the sounds coming from the barn, he knew that Bill could handle himself. Instead he focused on keeping his breathing steady. No sense in panicking now. The bum who had been chained with them had slunk further away from Mike and was mostly in shadow. He reeked of booze. Mike figured that he had no idea what was going to happen to him. In his stupor he had all but collapsed, the only reason Mike knew he was still alive was the peculiar snore which emitted from his nose and the smell of rotting teeth and stale alcohol on his breath.

The door to the barn was kicked open. Light flooded out into the yard. One man left carrying something on his back. Mike realized that the misshapen form must be Bill. His heart followed his friend who was dropped in some dark corner of the property. He wished he could help Bill, and he resolved that even if he had to lose he would walk out of the cage on his own damn feet.

The man returned to the hitching post. He looked down at Mike and the bum before going to Mike.

“You’re next. Hope you’re ready.”

Mike was led into the barn. People moved out of his way, spitting at his feet. He barely noticed. All his focus was on the ring. He would lose, for Eddie’s sake, but he was going to show these hicks a fight they would remember.

Dunning sneered at him as he was pushed through the gate. “Put your hands together for AHock v. Hanlon!”

Mike looked up to see his opponent. It was kid. Christ. He couldn’t be any older than thirteen. Under a swath of dark hair, pimples covered sallow cheeks. His wrists were tiny, cigarette burns littered his arms. Christ. Mike wondered who this kid’s parents were. Distantly he could hear the bell ring.

“Get ‘im, Avery. Stop fucking staring!” a man shouted from the crowd.

Avery jumped in his skin and then started into the ring. His fists half held up. Limp wrists.

“Hit me,” Mike said under his breath. “You gotta hit me, kid.”

Imperceptibly Avery shook his head.

Mike swiped out at him, hoping that if he struck the boy it would start his fight or flight responses. Avery ducked, before landing a tentative blow on Mike’s side. The crowd laughed. Using the noise as cover, Mike pulled Avery into him.

The boy squirmed.

“You gotta listen to me, kid. I don’t have long. You have to fight me. If we both want to get out of here alive you’re going to have to fight.” Mike said.

Dunning moved in to pull them apart, but Mike had already let go. He swiped again at Avery. Avery ducked before landing another punch. There was more behind this one, but it was still weak. Mike knew that he had to land one blow, get Avery to get angry with him, but he was afraid that he might do permanent damage. And if Avery lost then there would be hell to pay on both sides.

The rest of the round they continued to circle one another; the crowd grew restless. This wasn’t what they wanted to see. When the bell rang, Mike went to his corner not even having broken a sweat.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing out there?” Robert asked.

Mike didn’t respond as he picked up the water that had been left out for him like he was some sort of dog.

“You’re a disgrace. Even Denbrough did fucking better.”

“Bill couldn’t walk when he left the ring.” Mike said staring Robert down.

“He’ll be fine. It isn’t like he hasn’t seen worse.”

Rage boiled in Mike, but his minute was almost up. “I’m doing my best out there.”

“Do better.”

With those inspiring words to urge him forward Mike entered the ring. It was slow going. Avery, seemingly similarly inspired was trying to hit Mike more, but his shots were weak. There was little more behind them than a breath of air. He wasn’t putting what little body weight he had behind his jabs and punches. Mike was too scared to throw his weight behind his own. The boy looked like he would bruise easily. Round after round continued with little damage being done. The bell rang after the seventh round and Mike knew what was coming.

“I told you there would be consequences.”

“He’s not fighting.” Mike hated making excuses, but if he could protect Eddie he would make them til kingdom come.

“One more round, Hanlon, that’s it. You know what you have to do.”

He didn’t actually. No clue. This wasn’t a fair fight, even before he had been told to throw it. He was going up against a kid who probably only weighted ninety pounds wet. He looked over at Avery to see another man shouting at him. The boy was cowering. If this match didn’t go the way the grown ups had planned neither one of them would be walking out of the ring. Bill’s fate would look like a dream.

The bell rang.

Avery sprung from his corner like a feral cat, howling as he came. His arms were up, and this time he twisted from his hips as he punched Mike. The blows were light, but now they stung. Avery was fighting for his life. He dodged Mike’s punches without missing a beat. His screeching grew, his vocal cords must be raw. Desperation twisted his face as he continued to hit Mike.

Mike had no other choice but to back up against the chain link fence. He could smell the bystanders’ breath, stale and sour. He could only pray that Eddie and Georgie were nowhere close. Avery’s attacks became more pointed, he had stopped punching and was now scratching at Mike’s face. His nails were uneven and drew blood. Mike let out a cry as white hot pain flashed before his eyes.

Avery leaped up and wrapped his hands around Mike’s neck, pulling him down. The muscles were still tender from Robert’s abuse, and Mike found himself struggling for air. He fell to his knees hoping that Avery would release him.

Thank god for small mercies. Avery let go and began to kick Mike in the ribs. Above the noise Mike heard Eddie scream.

Dust clogged Mike’s throat. How much longer did they have? A minute? Two? He needed to pass out. Why couldn’t he pass out? Surely the pain was bad enough. What was keeping him conscious?

Avery tackled him, the wind was knocked from Mike as he landed on his back. The smaller boy pinned him to the ground, his breathing uneven. Distantly Mike wondered if Avery was asthmatic. His heart bled for the boy, so like what Eddie might have become if Robert was more sadistic. Why hadn’t he passed out yet? Surely they didn’t have much more time. And Mike knew there was only one thing left to do, all he could hope was that Avery would help him out.

Mike tried to raise himself up, and Avery, playing his part like they had planned it, beat him down. Mike closed his eyes feigning loss of consciousness. Frank declared Avery the winner just as the bell rang.

Avery collapsed on top of Mike.

“Thank you.” So soft Mike almost missed it.

Avery was pulled away and escorted out of the ring. An unknown man lifted Mike and carried him outside. Even though his lungs weren’t quite working right and his throat felt hot, Mike felt unadulterated relief wash over him. He had saved Avery from a beating. He had saved Eddie from whatever punishment Robert had in store. There was his honor and nobility after all. 

Mike was dropped into a bed of hay, the exhaustion of the day beginning to catch up with him. He drifted off to sleep, but not before feeling the chill of metal around his wrist and hearing the clink of the handcuff. He may be still their prisoner, but not in his dreams.

He dreamed of a warm fire in a large fieldstone fireplace. A woman with skin as dark as his was laughing, he looked up at her and she smiled. She had such a beautiful smile. A large callused hand came down around him, but Mike wasn’t afraid. There was a dog too, yipping around the ankles of the grown ups, begging for table scraps. It was a happy scene. A good dream.

For the first time since Mike was five years old, he slept less than a mile away from his birthright. And like some sort of magic that only exists in fairy tales he dreamed of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support on the last chapter! It means so much to me when you give me kudos or comments. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, was it too much? Not enough? Just right? I'm still working on finding the balance for these chapters and your feedback helps more than I can say.  
> Next chapter will be pretty heavy, but there will definitely be more of the Derry Losers (and with them a bit of levity).  
> Yrs.  
> TWoW


	6. Chapter 6

After Mike’s fight Eddie felt like he could breath again. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath for so long. He was a little surprised he hadn’t passed out. Maybe it was because he couldn’t let himself lose consciousness. After all he would be up half the night worrying about Bill and Mike, making sure they survived the night. Sure these fights hadn’t been the worst they had seen, but by nature Eddie was a worrier. Robert said he got it from his mother.

Henry Bowers entered the ring, and quite honestly, Eddie had had enough violence for one evening. He held Georgie’s hand throughout the fight, counting the minutes until they could go find the others. He didn’t even look up, just studied his scuffed shoes and counted. 

Henry’s fight didn’t last long. The other man in the ring was high on some mix of drugs and alcohol and had never stood a chance. It was over by the third round. Men began to scurry home, rats abandoning the ship, their entertainment was done. Nothing was left for them.

Robert found Eddie and Georgie. He placed his dry hands on the scruffs of their necks, guiding them to the exit. They were led to a smaller building that had hay stacked up against its walls. Bill and Mike were there chained to a post. Their arms were bent at an unnatural angle which must have been pretty painful. A man was standing over them. Anger rose in Eddie’s stomach. There was no need for a guard, they were fucking chained up like animals. Immediately he felt guilty for having such thoughts, and he looked at Robert to see if he suspected anything. The other man was directing Bill and Mike’s release and didn’t spare Eddie a glance. There was some relief in that. When Eddie had been young he was sure his “papa” had been able to read his mind. It was only when he was older, and when Mike joined them, that Robert had become Robert instead of “papa,” and that Eddie knew that no matter how ingrained Robert was in his mind he did not actually possess the power to read it.

Mike awoke, rubbing sensation back into the arm which had been chained to the post. Bill was in much worse shape. He seemed to be drifting on the edge, and Eddie suddenly worried that he might not have the supplies to bandage Bill up. That would mean a trip to Keene’s pharmacy tomorrow. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach.

“Get him up,” Robert said.

Georgie ran to his brother and hugged him with little regard for Bill’s injuries. He sobbed, relief and worry clouding his speech. Bill soothed him best as he could.

“Shut him up. Let’s get a move on. I’m fucking exhausted.”

Gently, Mike pulled Georgie away before pulling Bill to his feet. The two boys hobbled towards where Robert had parked. Eddie and Georgie trailed behind them. While the younger boy wiped the tears from his cheeks with his shirt sleeve, Eddie watched Bill and Mike. It was painful to see how slowly they were going. No sixteen year old should move so delicately. They looked like soldiers in war movies coming home from the battlefield. All that they were missing were the bandages around their heads and the bloodied fatigues. 

Eventually they made it to the car. Mike helped Bill into the back, before carefully lowering himself in. This time Georgie rode shotgun so that Eddie could sit in the back and start to unwrap their hands. He began with Bill as he wasn’t sure how long the other boy would maintain consciousness. Bill hissed in pain as Eddie began to undo the wrappings, Georgie’s large peat colored eyes never leaving them.

“What hurts the most?” Eddie asked softly so as not to disturb Robert who was humming cheerfully as he drove.

Bill took an internal inventory. “Ribs hurt like a motherfucker. Sorry, Georgie.”

Eddie nodded there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about those, but he figured Keene’s might have some topical creams to help with the aching muscles and bruising. Fuck he was probably going to have to pick up some more concealer while he was at it. Between Bill’s face and Mike’s neck there would be a lot of questions on Monday.

“Also,” Bill’s voice was raspy, “guess I know what your asthma attacks are like now.”

“That’s not funny,” Eddie said more for Bill’s sake than his own.

Bill let out a rattley laugh. “I know, Kaspbrak, but sometimes a guy needs his chuckles.”

Bill had never looked so far from chuckling in Eddie’s life. He wondered if CB had done damage to his brain. But the house on Neibolt Street wasn’t really equipped for him to do a CAT scan so he would just have to hope for the best. Eddie turned to Mike.

There were scratch marks across his face and upper chest. His neck was bruised and even in the ill light of the moon, Eddie could see bruises forming on Mike’s ribs where Avery had kicked him. That fight had been nothing like what he was expecting. It had seemed so docile at the start, but the end had been bloody, something straight from hell. Eddie wasn’t even sure how Mike was going to cover the scratch marks by Monday.

“What hurts the most?” Eddie asked.

Mike shrugged, wincing at the action.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s not bad,” his voice was deeper like he had a cold. 

Eddie wanted to murder Robert and Avery for what they had done to him. “Bullshit it wasn’t bad.”

“He was tiny, no bigger than you.”

“That doesn’t matter. You were injured in the ring. What hurts the most?”

“Is it vain to say my face? At least girls find boys with scars charming.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Those aren’t going to scar, Hanlon.”

“You don’t know that. Besides I think I would look dashing with a scar.”

Bill let out a huff. Looks like he was getting his chucks after all.

Eddie looked between the two boys with confusion. They had never been like this after a fight. He wasn’t sure what to do. Was Mike’s brain damaged too? Mike and Bill began to laugh softly, and Eddie for the life of him didn’t understand.

What Eddie was too young to understand was this: while Bill and Mike were certainly injured if not also traumatized from their first night in the cage, they were also still alive. And there is nothing so euphoric as knowing that you are alive when despite all the odds you shouldn’t be. Bill and Mike’s laughter was that of relief. And more than anything else it was a way with coping with all they had seen and done tonight. They laughed, sounding like two wheezing bagpipes. It was a terrible sound, and yet they were breathing.

After a moment or so of the horrific sounds, Robert snapped at them to shut up.

They did. Bill reached for Mike’s hand. The other boy grabbed it, and while it was painful on their sore knuckles the pain was another reminder of their survival.

By the time they reached Neibolt Street exhaustion clouded over them all. They were barely able to finish their toiletries before passing out in their beds. Eddie had wanted to further examine them, but Robert insisted it could wait until morning.

“They need their rest. You are by no means to keep them up any later.” Robert adopted the tone he used when he wanted to sound like a caring parent.

“But –”

“Nope. You’re to get rest yourself, chickadee. You’re worrying yourself to an early grave. And you,” Robert turned on Georgie. “You are not to keep your big brother up by asking for a bedtime story. Frankly you are too old for them. Billy needs his rest. You are to be a good boy and get into bed, your own bed, and go to sleep. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” Georgie said desperate to get away from Robert.

“Alright. Goodnight, boys. Sleep tight.”

Eddie went to his room. He heard the key turn in the lock. He looked at his bed, and he missed the little room he and Mike shared in Chicago. Lord, how he wished that Mike were here. If he was then maybe he wouldn’t worry so much. He wouldn’t be so alone.

Eddie waited until silence fell in the house. Once he was sure Robert had gone to bed he pulled out his ham radio. It was already 2 am, but maybe the Losers were still on a late night call? Eddie turned it on, and although he searched and searched all he found was static.

–

The next morning, Eddie was out of his room as soon as his door was unlocked. He had to piss like a racehorse and on top of that he was worried about his friends. After using the bathroom he checked in on Mike. The other boy was still asleep. The scratches looked worse in the daylight. He would need to see if there was any wound spray or ointment in his first aid kit, if not that was going on the shopping list.

Next Eddie checked on the Denbroughs. They were asleep too. Bill had kicked his covers off in his sleep. The patchwork of bruising across his ribs looked painful. His face was worse. Eddie was definitely going to need to buy that concealer. Bill took a shallow breath, his ribs not allowing for anything greater. Eddie thought not for the first time that this was killing them. He wondered how much fighting in the ring was shortening their life spans. Would he and Georgie outlive Mike and Bill purely because they weren’t taking a beating every other week? Would Robert? Eddie couldn’t picture a world without them, a world dominated by men like Robert. His heart burned at the thought. He needed to go out and get their treatment, it was the only thing which separated him from Robert and his friends.

The awful voice in him, the one that sounded so much like Robert, asked what about Mr. Keene? Surely he also took care of his patients, those who came to his store with ailments, and yet he enjoyed a good fight like any other red-blooded American. What makes you any better than him? The voice mocked Eddie. He swallowed. The silence of the morning echoing around the big empty house only seemed to amplify the question. He had to get out of here now.

Eddie raced to his room and threw on his clothes. He pulled his wallet out of his backpack and double checked his allowance. He was the only one to receive money from Robert, and it was only so that he could pay for medical supplies. Robert didn’t say that Eddie needed to spend it on the others, in fact he encouraged Eddie to treat himself every now and again. But Eddie knew that if he spent the money and later Bill or Mike needed something Robert wouldn’t pay for it. It would be selfish to spend the money on anything other than them, and Eddie knew it.

That was the difference between him and the bad men, the voice which sounded like Eddie argued. He wasn’t them. He was different. He had to be.

Quietly, so as not to wake the others, Eddie crept downstairs. He skipped the step that always creaked, padding across the hardwood floor. He had almost made it to the front door when he heard a cough from the dining room. There was only one occupant of the house he hadn’t checked on. Swallowing his fear, Eddie turned to face Robert.

“Good morning, chickadee. Come eat breakfast with me. It’ll be just like old times.” 

Although Robert’s voice was light and easy, Eddie knew better. This wasn’t a request. Eddie followed Robert into the dining room. The curtains were still drawn, masking the room in shadows. Food was laid out, but there was only place set. Robert took his seat at the head of the table. Eddie fell into his usual seat at Robert’s right hand. The older man smiled at this. Still trained so beautifully.

“You’re up awfully early, Eddie, where you heading?” Robert asked before sipping his coffee.

“Pharmacy. Thought I should get some supplies.”

“How industrious of you. Your mother would be so proud of you for taking such good care of yourself and your brothers.”

Eddie nodded.

“Toast?”

“No thank you.”

“Eddie, you’re a growing boy. You really should eat something. I’m afraid that watching your figure will do you no good. Besides you’re not growing quite so much as a boy your age should. Take the toast.” Robert slid the plate over to Eddie.

The bread was dry and crumbled in his mouth. Eddie thought he might choke, but he continued to eat.

“Better. Now when you get to the pharmacy you may use my discount. Just tell Mr. Keene that I said it was okay.” Robert said.

Eddie nodded.

“He’s going to be thrilled to see you this morning. Treat him kindly, Eddie. He’s one of our friends.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You really are growing up so quickly. Soon you’ll be leaving the nest.”

Eddie looked down unsure what to say.

“But you won’t abandon me, Eddie. When old age comes to claim me you’ll come back to care for me, won’t you?”

Eddie looked up. He knew fear and panic were spelled across his face. Robert had expected the reaction and he drunk it in. The other boys’ life spans were considerably shortened. There was no love lost there, and once Robert had no use for them they would be sure to find themselves in tragic accidents. But Eddie. Eddie was special. Eddie was all his. Always had been, always would be. And Robert made sure that Eddie knew it.

“Yes, sir.”

“Better get to Keene’s to avoid the Saturday morning rush.”

“Yes, sir.” Eddie was about to get up.

“And, Eddie?”

He froze.

“I’d hurry back. I’d hate for Mike and Bill to have to wait for their treatments. That would be pretty selfish of you, huh?”

Eddie nodded. He tripped over his feet in his haste to leave Robert’s company.

The sunlight and fresh air of the early morning promised freedom and delight which Neibolt House could never compare to. Eddie hurried into town, whistling as he went. He reveled in the little bit of freedom he had been granted, and tried not to think too much about Robert’s conversation this morning. Right now all he focused on was the sun on his face, the clean brisk air, and the sounds of birds in the trees. He thought he could almost be happy here if it weren’t for the shadows which seemed to reach out from Neibolt Street or the sickened roots of the town which demanded blood for sport. Derry could be nice if it weren’t for those things.

Before long Eddie had reached Keene’s pharmacy. Despite having just opened there appeared to be several moms already inside making purchases.

The bell over the door chirped as Eddie entered. He saw Mr. Keene look up from the counter, his eyes glinting behind his glasses. Eddie ducked his head and all but ran to the cosmetics section. Blindly he picked concealers and foundation that he hoped would match Bill and Mike’s skin tones. It was the best he could do without having them here with him.

Next he headed to the pain relief aisle. He began searching for the best topical creams for scratches and bruises. He was so busy looking at the different products that he didn’t notice the other customer until he had bumped into him.

The boxes of creams and cosmetics fell from Eddie’s arms as he scrambled to pick them up and get out an apology.

“Eddie?”

He looked up to find Ben standing there watching him.

Mortification flooded Eddie’s system. Oh god, what was he supposed to say in a situation like this? He could only hope that Ben hadn’t noticed what he was buying yet. He swept the items up, hoping his arms would hide the labels.

“Hi, Ben. What are you doing here?” Eddie cursed in his head. He hadn’t meant to prolong the conversation with pleasantries. It was just like him to open his big mouth and for words to come spilling out uninvited.

“Oh, we’re picking up some snacks before heading to the clubhouse.”

We? Clubhouse? Eddie sensed trouble.

“Ben? Oh there you are!” Beverly’s voice could be heard from around the corner. A moment later she appeared by Ben’s side. Her face fell a little when she saw Eddie, and her expression was quickly replaced with a thoughtful one as she eyed the products in his arms. “Hi, Eddie.”

“Beverly.” Could this day get any worse?

“Guys, I found Sour Patch flavored ice cream, do you think Stanny would like that?”

Eddie turned to find Richie entering the aisle from the other direction. He was cornered. Richie brightened at seeing him. They hadn’t had many interactions, but all of them had left Eddie feeling like he was being beleaguered by a puppy which did not quite know its size or enthusiasm.

“Hiya, Eddie!”

Eddie felt his breathing go wrong. Tears began to pool in his eyes. This was all so humiliating. Of fucking course Richie Tozier would show up and see it all. It was just his luck. He wanted to grab for his inhaler, but he couldn’t risk revealing the makeup in his arms. It would cause too many questions, instead he began to gasp.

“Why don’t you guys go check out, I’ll meet you by the front in a minute,” Ben said.

Beverly and Richie looked at him curiously, but seemed to trust his word as they left the two boys alone.

“Here, let me hold those things so you can grab your inhaler,” Ben said.

Eddie shook his head, his grip tightening on the boxes.

“Please, Eddie, let me help you.”

Eddie nodded before surrendering his purchases to Ben. Once he got a hand free he grabbed his inhaler and pushed the button releasing the soothing medication down his throat. His lungs filled with air. He replaced the inhaler into his pocket, and took the boxes back from Ben.

“I know things are kinda awkward between all of us.” Ben started, a faint blush tinging his cheeks. “You guys want space. I get it. I was the new kid once, and I didn’t really know how to make friends back then either. I guess I just wanted to let you know none of us hold a grudge against you for needing some time to adjust.”

Eddie could feel eyes on him. He turned to see Beverly and Richie watching the exchange from the front of the store. He turned back to Ben. There was a wide-eyed earnest expression on his face, and Eddie knew that Ben believed every word he had said.

“Thanks, Ben. I mean it. But I really don’t think we should be friends.”

“I respect that. You clearly have some stuff going on right now, and that should be a priority. But no one should go through life without friends, and if you want us we’ll be here.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” There was a teasing smile on Ben’s lips.

“Why are you being so nice?” Eddie asked. Whereas before with Beverly the question had been an attack, now Eddie truly wanted to know why anyone could be so kind to them.

Ben shrugged. “Because I think deep down you guys are in need of some good friends.”

Eddie pondered Ben’s words.

“I should go, but I’ll see you around school.”

Eddie nodded. He watched the trio leave and part of him wished he could go with them. But that wasn’t the world he lived in. Eddie turned away from them and went to go pay for his purchases.

“Good morning,” Mr. Keene said as he began to ring up Eddie’s purchases.

“Hi.”

“I think I ought to warn you, those kids you were talking to are trouble.”

“Oh?” Eddie raised his head to look at the store’s proprietor. There was a wicked grin on his face.

“Sure. They’re loud and obnoxious, thinking they run this town. They also hang around places that young people shouldn’t hang around like the quarry and the Barrens. But you’re not like that, Eddie, are you? You’re a good, clean, neat boy.”

“I guess.” Eddie said looking away again.

Mr. Keene licked his lips. “You’re not their sort. I know boys like you, Eddie, and you’re better than that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Say a boy like you should get something for himself. A treat. Don’t you think?”

Eddie shook his head.

“C’mon, pick something out.” Mr. Keene gestured to the candy that was stocked below the counter.

“I couldn’t.”

Mr. Keene eyed him up. “No harm in it. Pick something.”

“Okay. The Reese’s.”

“A good choice.” Mr Keene said adding it to his order. “The total is $31.65.”

Eddie pulled the money out of his wallet and began to count it. He only had $25. Eddie had been sure that he had selected products within his budget. Even with the stupid candy bar he should have been able to afford everything. He felt more tears well up in his eyes. “I can’t afford it.”

“Hmm,” Mr Keene drummed his fingers on the counter top.

“Take off the candy bar, I don’t need it.”

“Sure thing, kid.”

“Could you try ringing it all up again? I was sure I had enough.” Eddie could feel the line shift impatiently behind him.

Mr. Keene put on an expression which said that he would entertain Eddie’s outrageous assumption that he had rung it up wrong. He quickly rescanned the sale and the new total, minus the chocolate bar, came to $29.54.

Eddie staved off the panic threatening to close his throat. He wasn’t going to cry in front of this man. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Hey, kid, how about you just give me the $25 and say we’re even. As a favor between friends.”

Eddie didn’t want any of this man’s favors, but he was holding up the line and Bill and Mike needed what he was buying. He looked Mr. Keene in the eye and nodded. Mr. Keene smiled. Eddie want to throw up. He felt like he had just sold a piece of himself.

He passed the money over, careful not to touch the old man. He succeeded, but when Mr. Keene went to pass him his bag he managed to rub his dry hand across Eddie’s inner wrist.

“Reciept?”

Eddie shook his head stumbling away from the counter.

“Have a good day, Eddie.”

Eddie did his best not to run out of the store. In his panic at the register he had forgotten all about Robert’s discount. Not that it would have done him any good. Mr. Keene smiled as he left. The fucking kid had been right. He should have been able to afford everything, only Mr. Keene had charged him twice on a few things to drive up the price. He liked it when pretty young boys were in his debt. He liked it a lot. He hummed a little to himself as he turned to help the next customer.

–

Outside even the sunshine couldn’t cheer Eddie up. He raced home desperate for the comfort which only Bill, Mike, and Georgie could provide. When he got back he unpacked his bag and found the Reese’s bar at the bottom. He threw it into the trash immediately. He was disgusted by himself. Eddie thought back to Ben’s words and wondered if the other boy was right. Maybe he couldn’t be alone anymore.

He thought about running into Richie. How his heart had pounded upon seeing the other boy. Bill was right, he hardly ever saw Richie, but when he did his body always ended up betraying him. Eddie was sure it was because Richie made everything so easy. With his goofy smile and dumb jokes, Eddie knew it wouldn’t be long until he let his guard down. Richie could probably get him to share things he had never even told Mike, there was just that sort of easy confidence about him that made people want to confide in him. If Eddie hated Richie it was because he feared what he might do around the other boy. He feared the look Richie had given him on the first day of school, so open and curious. He feared the way Richie’s voice had sounded over the radio. The effusive unadulterated joy in his tone was undeniably attractive. Eddie feared what he might do if he ever let himself get comfortable around Richie. And deep down he knew what was holding him back. It was the voice in his head that sounded so much like Robert. The in-his-head-Robert didn’t want him getting close to the others. The in-his-head-Robert didn’t want Eddie to feel comfortable or safe around anyone. That Robert didn’t like how without even knowing Richie, Richie had begun to break down those barriers that Eddie had spent his whole life creating. And Eddie couldn’t betray Robert, real or imaginary, no matter how much he longed to.

As Eddie began to set out his purchases on his desk he began to wonder what it was like being a part of a we, and what it meant to have a clubhouse.

– 

As Beverly, Ben, and Richie waited for Stan to arrive to the clubhouse after synagogue, they discussed the bizarre start to the morning.

“Did you even see what he was buying?” Beverly asked.

“Yeah, I did.” Ben said.

“Those aren’t things a normal teenage boy buys. He had bruise cream and concealer,” Beverly continued on as if she hadn’t heard Ben.

“Bev, what are you saying?” Richie asked.

“I’m saying those aren’t the things a typical teenage boy should be buying. Those are things that victims of physical abuse buy.”

Richie’s jaw tightened.

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Bev.” Ben said.

“Yeah? What do you think he was buying the makeup and creams for?”

“Look I’m not saying that it isn’t domestic violence, but I don’t think we should rush to any sort of conclusion. Not without finding out more.”

“Hey guys, what did I miss?” Stan asked climbing down the ladder. Immediately he could feel the discomfort in the earthen room. Something had happened and none of them seemed eager to volunteer the information.

“We ran into Eddie at Keene’s this morning,” Richie finally said.

“Were things awkward because of what he said to Bev awhile back?” Stan asked.

“No that wasn’t it. He was actually pretty civil,” Ben said.

“Yeah when he wasn’t buggin’ out.” Richie said.

“C’mon Rich, that’s not fair. No it was more what he was purchasing that has us… concerned,” Ben said searching for a moment before finding the right word.

“What was he buying?” Stan asked.

“He had topical creams for bruises and scratches, as well as some concealer and foundation. We think it might be a situation of domestic abuse.” Ben said looking at the others.

Stan couldn’t believe it. They must be wrong, surely they would have noticed something tangible in class rather than some strange purchases. There was no way that that was happening to Bill. Right? Instead of saying as much he asked, “are you sure?”

“Of course not,” Beverly said, “but what else could it be? There is something going on with them, and I am going to get to the bottom of it.”

“Oh yeah?” Richie asked. “Guess that makes us some sort of fucked up Mystery Inc. Bev, you’re obviously Daphne. Ben can be Fred. Staniel, sorry babe, but you’re Velma. And that leaves me to be Shaggy.”

“No offense, Rich, but I think you’re a better Velma than Stan. You’ve got the glasses and everything. Besides, have you seen Stan’s curls when they’re wet? Absolutely shaggy,” Ben joked.

“Fine, I’ll concede to that. But that pun was weak at best.” Richie said.

“And what about Scooby?” Stan asked.

“Mr. Pibbles can be Scooby.” Mr. Pibbles being Ben’s pet hamster.

“Absolutely not. I’ve already decided that I’m Nancy Drew.” Beverly said with a laugh. While she wouldn’t mind being Daphne, she couldn’t help but have her heart set on the antiquated aesthetics of a Nancy Drew mystery.

“And what does that make us? Sherlock and Watson?” Stan asked.

“I call Sherlock!” Richie said.

“Absolutely not, you’re obviously my Watson.” Stan said. He was not about to play second fiddle to Richie’s Sherlock. Lord knew Richie was insufferable as it was, but making him the most brilliant mind in crime fiction and all bets were off.

“No way. With my dark curls and cheekbones I even look like Bandersnitch Cumberbund –”

“Benedict Cumberbatch!”

“Whatever. Plus I am way smarter than you. You’re my bitch, admit it Stan.”

“You are not Sherlock and Watson,” Beverly said between laughs.

“Then who are we?” Richie asked.

“The Hardy boys.”

“The Hardy boys?!” Richie squawked. 

The others burst out laughing at his indignation.

“You know they kind of look like them,” Ben said once the laughter died down.

“Who looks like what?” Richie asked.

“You and Stan look like the Hardy boys, only with more curls.”

“How do you know that?” Stan asked.

“The last time I was at the library I happened to swing by the kid’s section to look at the Nancy Drew/ Hardy boys’ books. I pulled one of the books out and the cover had a dark haired boy and a lighter haired boy on it.”

“I can’t believe the universe is conspiring against us like this,” Stan said.

“Maybe they should be called the Curly boys,” Beverly said.

“Absolutely not. I will draw the line at the Hardy boys, but I won’t be lumped into a group with Richie called the Curly boys,” Stan said.

“Wait, wait, wait. If we’re the fucking Hardy boys, and she’s Nancy Drew, then who the fuck are you? Columbo?” Richie asked having paid zero attention to the conversation happening around him.

“I’m Ned Nickerson.”

“Whomst the fuck is that?”

“Nancy’s boyfriend obviously.”

“Yeah, Richie, obviously,” Stan rolled his eyes.

“Shut up. You didn’t know who Ned Nickerson was either, you pleb.”

The others burst out laughing, and for now their worries about Eddie’s purchases were the furthest thing from their minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the continued support! This story is becoming much more Eddie-centric than I was anticipating so I changed the summary a bit. It feels weird writing so much for him and Bill because I am much more comfortable writing for Stan. I hope I'm doing them justice. But if you came here for the other Losers, never fear their time in the spotlight is coming.  
> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, your feedback means so much to me!  
> .  
> Also please go check out my new work! I have had the absolute good fortune to collab with [ @Bibabybi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibabybi/pseuds/Bibabybi/works) on an Omegaverse Stenbrough story which will be updating throughout August. So be sure to check out [ Where Dreams Dwell, The Heart Calls Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636555/chapters/62233825). It's a little different than anything I've written before, and I hope you enjoy it.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW
> 
> PS - next chapter changes everything. LMK your predictions!


	7. Chapter 7

During homeroom on Monday, Eddie watched Richie entertain Stan and Ben with an over the top re-enactment of some sort. He wondered what it was like to be at the center of Richie’s attention, to be able to laugh so easily, like it was nothing. He thought it must be nice.

“Eddie? Everything alright?” Mike asked.

Eddie turned his attention away from the other group to look at Mike. “Sure.”

“Yeah?” Mike didn’t believe Eddie’s smile for an instant.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be.”

Mike could think of a handful of reasons why things might not be okay, but instead of replying he let out a small huff of air somewhere between a snort and a chuckle. He regretted the action instantly as pain shot up around his throat. He grimaced.

“Didn’t think such a small action would hurt,” he said under his breath.

Worry swept over Eddie like a tidal wave. It was selfish to think about Richie when Mike was in pain like this. Hatred and self-loathing tinged his worry like poison. “You need to be more careful.”

“No one heard me, Dr. K. It’s alright.” Mike said, shifting slowly in his chair. “Don’t suppose I could get another ibuprofen?”

Swallowing them hurt like a bitch, but Mike knew they helped ease the pain in the long run.

Eddie shook his head. “I can’t give you anymore without risking your liver.”

“Damn.”

The bell rang as the rest of the class staggered in. Role was called; morning announcements were given. Eddie tuned them out, his knee bouncing rapidly as he worried about his patients. Luckily he could keep an eye on Mike all day, but he wouldn’t see Bill until lunch. He hoped that Bill was better at covering than Mike. He really couldn’t deal with any more nasty surprises today.

–

Stan watched as Bill rose from his desk and noted how carefully he moved. It was strange to see the teen so limited with his motions; he was moving more like a sixty year old rather than a sixteen year old. Stan couldn’t look away.

“You’re staring,” Richie said.

Stan turned to glare at Richie. They were waiting for Bill before going to Epping’s class, but even in the noise of students Richie wasn’t exactly subtle. Stan worried that the wrong person, or even Bill, had heard him. “Would you shut up?”

Richie laughed before adding more quietly, “admit it you’ve got the hots for him.”

Stan rolled his eyes. He closed the distance between them and Bill and began a conversation with him.

“How was your weekend?” Stan asked.

Bill shrugged before wincing. “N-not bad. Mostly did h-h-homework.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to write your comparative essay on?” Richie asked as they caught up to him.

“Yeah. I was thinking of w-writing about Hotspur and c-comparing him to Achilles.”

“Of course you were,” Richie said. “Two ill-fated heroes, just your type.”

Bill ignored him and looked at Stan. There was a soft smile tugging at Stan’s lips that was absolutely adorable. “What about you, S-Stan?”

“I kind of wanted to write about the people who get left behind when their lovers go to war.”

“Stan is convinced that Patroclus and Achilles were lovers,” Richie said.

“Like you’re not? You cried for days after reading _The Song of Achilles_. But yeah, I wanted to write about Kate and Mortimer’s wife, versus Patroclus and Brieses. I thought it might be interesting to study them in depth. I mean Kate and Patroclus both support their respective heroes, whereas Brieses and Mortimer’s wife have to contend with lovers who don’t speak their native tongue. I think there must be some interesting comparisons there.” Stan blushed. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“N-no it’s –” Bill wanted to say cute but he the word wouldn’t come. He hated the blush that rushed to his cheeks and tried to change the subject. “E-Epping is okay with you speculating that P-Patroclus was g-g-gay?”

“Sure, he actually suggested it when I went to meet with him for help on choosing a topic,” Stan said. “I didn’t have a strong enough thesis without it.”

Bill couldn’t take his eyes off of Stan’s lips. Listening to him talk so passionately about a comparative essay made Bill giddy. And now the way Stan bit and worried at his lower lip, causing them to darken, sent Bill’s blood rushing downward. Stan smiled again, that sweet smile, a dimple appearing. God, Stan was going to be the end of him. Bill had to bite his own lip to keep from groaning.

“’Have not saints lips and holy palmers too?’” Richie asked studying them.

“What?” Stan asked.

But Bill recognized the quote. It was from _Romeo and Juliet_. Romeo said the line while flirting with Juliet. It was his way of asking her for a kiss. He blushed at the implications and turned away.

“Don’t worry about it, Stannabelle. Bill got it loud and clear.”

Stan looked at Bill, studying his face for the first time this morning. Bill wouldn’t meet his eye, but Stan noticed a faint powder on his face. There were places around his left temple which seemed a little discolored. Stan was sure it was just a trick of the light, because it couldn’t be anything else. But when Bill went to sit in his desk he did it in the same deliberate way he had been moving, and suddenly Stan wasn’t so sure anymore. He recognized the signs, and even more than that he recognized poorly matched concealer over bruises. God, he remembered. The shame and self-consciousness, thinking everyone was looking, that everyone knew. But this couldn’t be the same as what happened to him. Stan would have seen something, heard something. His stomach dropped out, and any interest in Epping’s lecture vanished.

Stan couldn’t focus during class. Every chance he got he tried to study Bill without getting caught. If he could find definitive proof then he would let himself believe, at least that’s what he told himself. So he kept studying Bill looking for something he knew the other boy had been careful to hide.

At the end of class as he stood to go, he was tripped by Peter Gordon much to Marcia’s delight. The girl laughed as his books and notes spilled everywhere. 

“Watch it, Urine, heard Bowers is looking for you.” Gordon said.

“You got a lot of nerve, Gordon,” Richie said before helping Stan with his things.

“Fucking fags.” Gordon said retreating swiftly from the classroom.

Epping looked at Stan for a moment – pity and kindness radiating from his eyes – before going after Peter Gordon, but the damage had been done. Stan finished gathering up his things, not making eye contact with either of his friends. He was embarrassed that they had to see him like this. Embarrassed by the tears which had sprung unbidden to his eyes. Embarrassed that this was still happening. That Richie had to help him. Their kindness, and Epping’s, did nothing to ease the ache in his heart. He tried to will away the frustration and tears but that just made it worse. He hated how pathetic and helpless he was.

Bill watched the two boys on the ground, desperate to help, but he wasn’t sure he could bend down without giving away just how much pain he was in. He was reminded of how someone had punched Georgie just because he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. The same possessive anger took over Bill, frightening him with its depth and intensity. He hadn’t been able to save Georgie, but maybe he could stop whatever Bowers had in mind. It was time to stop keeping his distance. 

Their trio was the last to leave the classroom, the halls already beginning to empty as the warning bell rang.

“What does B-Bowers have against you?” Bill asked.

Stan wouldn’t meet his eye.

“C’mon, Stan. Tell m-me. Please?”

“Why? There’s clearly something you haven’t told us.”

Bill was startled by Stan’s tone.

Richie stared at Stan, a curious expression on his face. Stan met his eyes and Bill felt they must be having a secret exchange. He tried to put out the jealously which burned in his chest.

“Y-you’re right. J-just give me time.” Bill said.

Stan studied Bill’s face, the vulnerability and want written clearly on his own. “How can I trust you?”

And wasn’t that a loaded question. Bill knew he couldn’t state that it was because somehow intrinsically he trusted Stan more quickly than anyone else he had met. That wouldn’t be fair to Stan. It wouldn’t help anything. The truth was heavy on Bill’s tongue, but he knew the hallway to their next class wasn’t the right place to tell it. There were too many ears, too many ways it could get back to Robert. He was surprised that by how badly he wanted to tell Stan everything, but he knew it would just put him in danger – a danger which made Bowers look like nothing. There was no way he could put Stan in that position, but he could stop Bowers. On that he was determined.

“Give m-me to the end of the w-w-week. Please.”

Stan nodded, the concern and curiosity shone from his eyes.

Richie watched the whole exchange. Usually he wasn’t one to remain in the background, but something intense had occurred. It was something in the way Bill looked at Stan, in his tone when he spoke. They were kindred in a way Richie and Stan were not. Instead of being jealous he just hoped that Stan wouldn’t get hurt in the process, because if he did Richie knew there would be no way to pick up all the pieces.

–

At lunch Bill couldn’t take his eyes off of Stan’s table. He was worried that Gordon’s threat hadn’t been an empty one, and that Bowers was waiting to strike. He needed to move fast, but that would mean convincing Eddie and while Eddie worshiped his word it wouldn’t be so easy to convince him that he had been wrong.

“I t-think we should join the others at lunch,” Bill said.

Eddie stared at him, panic rising behind his eyes as he grabbed his inhaler. “Are you insane, Bill?”

“There’s strength in n-numbers.”

“No one’s messed with us. We don’t need them,” Eddie said.

Mike put his arm around Eddie, soothing him, “hear him out.”

Eddie calmed down slightly and turned to Bill, “alright, what’s your argument?”

“If w-we hang out w-w-with them Bowers and the rest won’t m-mess with them.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “What’s this really about?”

“They’re tormenting S-Stan and –”

“Not good enough.”

“Eddie,” Mike said.

“I g-g-get it. But if it were us w-w-wouldn’t you want their help?”

Eddie looked at Mike, “what do you think?”

“I think we can trust them.” Mike said.

“Why?”

“Because, Eddie, there is more to this world than violence and hate.”

And wasn’t that a hard statement to argue against, but as far as Eddie was concerned there wasn’t much more than violence and hate in their world, and what more did exist existed between them and Georgie. They didn’t need anyone else. Eddie hated how petulant he sounded, but he had to try. His voice was so small the others had to strain to hear him.

“But we have each other, isn’t that enough?” 

“Of course it’s enough, but I m-miss having friends. I m-miss being able to l-laugh and n-not w-w-worry. We never laugh, Eddie. W-we’re not happy.” Bill knew he was right. In Robert’s clutches Eddie had never experienced true friendship. He had never known what it was like to be a normal kid. Mike and Bill both had, they knew there was more to the world than what Robert preached.

Eddie looked at his two closest friends and wondered if there was merit to what they were suggesting. “Give me some time. To think it over.”

“Course, Dr. K. Take as long as you need.” Mike squeezed Eddie to him, the smaller boy smiled up at him.

Bill wanted to push the issue, but he knew that that would just cause Eddie to push his heels into the ground even more. He had done all he could for today. He could only hope that Henry wouldn’t try anything before Eddie could make up his mind. He glanced over at Stan’s table trying to draw comfort from Stan’s nearness.

–

After lunch, Eddie entered the Algebra II classroom. He made his way over to where Ben was sitting, ignoring Beverly’s wide-eyed expression.

“Did you mean what you said?” Eddie asked.

“What?” Ben asked.

“On Saturday, about being around. Did you mean it?” Eddie shot a look over his shoulder to where Mike was watching him curiously.

“Yeah of course,” Ben’s words tripped over themselves in his haste to assure the other boy of his sincerity.

Eddie glanced over at Beverly before returning his attention to Ben. 

“Alright. Good to know.” Eddie said before returning to where his Mike was sitting.

“What was that about?” asked Beverly.

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s a step.”

Beverly smiled. A step in any direction was a start. She knew that it must have been hard for Eddie to come to them after everything he had said. She just hoped that they wouldn’t let the new kids down.

–

It wasn’t until a full 24 hours later that the results of Bill’s proposition came to fruition. 

Lunchtime in the cafeteria found Bill, Mike, and Eddie clutching their trays to their chests standing in a tight triangle. The imagery of a small crew aboard a tiny ship battling against a stormy sea in order to reach the haven of the bay came to Bill’s mind. Instead of heading toward their usual corner table they were headed for one on the opposite side of the room, closer to the doors. Already seated there were Richie, Stan, Ben, and Beverly. Beverly’s red hair acted as their beacon, their lighthouse.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Mike asked Eddie.

Eddie nodded. 

Bill forced a smile as he lead his small vessel to the table by the doors, “hey, d-d-do you mind if we join you today?”

The quartet looked up, their surprise poorly hidden. Ben was the first to respond, his shock morphing into a smile. “Of course.”

Bill didn’t realize how tense he had been until he slid onto the bench besides Stan. His pounding heart not slowing for an instant, although his nerves were replaced by an entirely different sort of anxiety as his knees and elbows bumped against the other boy.

“S-sorry.”

“No worries,” the smile Stan gave him made it all worth it.

Mike took a seat by Ben, Eddie on his other side.

Richie peered at the smaller boy, clearly amused by this recent development.

“Don’t worry, we don’t bite,” Richie said to Eddie leaning across the table.

Eddie jumped in his seat.

Richie let out a soft laugh like he was trying not to scare the newcomer. “C’mon man, we can’t be that scary.”

Slowly Eddie relaxed.

“We were just talking about the first football game of the season,” Ben said.

“It’s this weekend, do you think you’re going to go?” Beverly asked.

“I d-d-don’t know, our d-dad is pretty strict,” Bill said.

“You’re not really missing much. Our team always loses.” Stan said.

“We were probably going to hang out there for an hour or so before ditching and going to the clubhouse anyway,” Richie said.

“Clubhouse?” Mike asked.

The Derry Losers shared a smile, before Richie answered. “Yeah. We built a clubhouse in the Barrens when we were twelve. We like to go there whenever Derry becomes a little too much. Now that you’re sitting with us guess you’re part of the Losers’ Club.”

Eddie snorted and said under his breath, “great initiation process.”

Richie was the only one to hear him as signified by a quirk of his lips. 

“W-what’s the B-Barrens?” asked Bill. 

“The patch of woods along the river that runs through town. No one goes down there these days,” Stan said.

“Sounds nice,” Mike said.

“You guys are welcome to come sometime. It’s pretty roomy,” Ben said.

The newly inducted Losers looked at one another.

“I d-don’t think that’s such a g-g-good idea.” 

“Why not?” Beverly asked.

“Our dad wouldn’t want us hanging out in the woods,” Mike said.

“Ticks,” Eddie added weakly. “They carry disease.”

“You know, your dad doesn’t need to know everything you get up to,” Beverly said.

Mike stared at her. Did she have any clue what her father did on his free nights?

“Beverly’s right. Down with the patriarchy,” Richie said.

“Richie, that’s not what that means. Besides you tell Wentworth everything,” Beverly said.

Richie fiddled with his glasses. “Shove off, Marsh.”

“Wentworth doesn’t deserve this abuse,” Stan said.

“My hero.” Richie swooned dramatically into Stan’s lap.

“Get off. I was defending your dad not you.”

“Do you like my dad more than me?” Richie shot up.

“Absolutely.”

“Treason, Stanabelle. Downright treason. Andrea will be so disappointed when I tell her.”

“Leave my mom out of it.”

“You started it by defending my dad. Homewrecker.”

“I am not!”

“You absolutely are! Admit it you wish you were Maggie so you could bone my dad.”

“Beep beep, Richie!”

“Are they always like this?” Eddie asked.

Beverly laughed. “Yeah pretty much.”

“Good l-lord.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Ben said.

“We call them our old married couple,” Beverly said.

Bill couldn’t help the stab of jealousy that appeared. And even though it was just for a moment the ache was worse than any of his healing bruises.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” Richie turned to face the newcomers, Eddie in particular. “Richie Tozier can help you with all your daddy issues.”

“Daddy issues?” Eddie asked.

“Sure, just cause me and Wentworth are tight doesn’t mean I don’t hide things from him occasionally.”

“Like what?” Stan asked.

“Shut up, Staniel this isn’t about you. And if you really must know, I have some weed socked in the bottom drawer of my desk,” Richie said.

“Richie, you have never smoked a day in your life. I guarantee that it’s oregano,” Stan said.

“Whatever, Stanabelle. I’m just saying I know how to evade parental spying so if you need any tips, Eddie Spaghetti, I’ve got you covered like tomato sauce on well spaghetti.”

Eddie snorted. He tried to suppress the laughter, but there was no use. It burst out from him wild and clear. Mike and Bill stared at him, both unsure of the last time they had heard Eddie laugh so freely. Mike privately thought he had never heard Eddie laugh so energetically, while Bill wondered if Eddie could see himself now would he still think of himself as sickly?

“What the fuck kinda line is that, Tozier?” Eddie asked between wheezes.

Richie looked especially proud of himself. “He laughs. To be honest, Eds, didn’t think you had it in ya, sitting there like a sad sack.”

Eddie snapped his mouth closed. “Don’t call me, Eds.”

“You don’t like that one? That’s cool, I’m fine calling you Eddie Spaghetti.”

“That’s worse,” Eddie pouted, but Richie didn’t mind. He knew that he had gotten through to the small teen at long last.

“Sure sure, you say that now, but admit it you like it.”

“I do not.” His blush was becoming more pronounced.

Bill looked to Mike, he had never seen Eddie so radiant.

“Aw, Eds c’mon –”

“Shut up, Trashmouth.”

Richie straightened up at that, “how did you know to call me that?”

Eddie felt himself flush, “I’m sure I heard Stan or Beverly call you that. What? Why are you staring?”

Everyone had turned to look at him, the Derry natives in particular. Richie looked over at Stan who shrugged. Richie only ever called himself Trashmouth over the radio, and never let his friends use the code name in public. After all if everyone knew it what sort of code name would that be? But Eddie was looking terrified now, and instead of chasing his curiosity like he longed to Richie let it go.

“Nothing, Eddie. Guess I wasn’t expecting you to give it out so good. I’m not used to the competition surrounded by these dunces,” Richie winked at Eddie and for some reason it made him feel immediately better.

Sensing the impending awkwardness, no one contradicted Richie for calling them dunces. Instead conversation shifted, slightly awkwardly, onto more neutral topics. As the hour progressed the newcomers began to relax, the whole group finding their own chemistry that was uniquely theirs. It was nice.

By the end of lunch, Stan no longer felt the need to constantly look over his shoulder. There was something soothing about Bill and Mike’s presence in particular. They maintained a calmness which balanced out Richie, Beverly, and Eddie’s natural high energy. Stan appreciated it more than he could say. Feeling Bill’s warmth as they sat side by side was something he could get used to. He tried to forget about yesterday’s weirdness, but found as the group grew tighter that he could not. If something was happening and he didn’t do anything to stop it he would never forgive himself. His parents had raised him better. So despite all of Beverly’s jokes about being Nancy Drew, he found himself siding with her, longing to find out the truth of what brought the new kids to town. He could have never guessed the danger that that decision would lead him to.

Haven, thought Bill. Despite the odds he had captained their little vessel through the storm and rocks and now they had reached the shelter of the bay. For the moment they were safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments on the last chapter. I enjoy hearing your thoughts and interacting with you so much! Please leave a comment below telling me what your thoughts are now that the Losers' Club is officially in session! Next chapter coming soon and let me tell you, y'all ain't ready for it.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	8. Chapter 8

Bill had always figured at some point their luck was going to give. The universe owed them. But he hadn’t expected the shift to come so soon after they had decided to befriend the Losers. If Bill had still believed in a higher power he would have been sure that they had wanted the two groups to meet, because what happened next certainly seemed to favor the new friendships. But Bill didn’t believe in that. He didn’t really believe in luck much, it had always been more of an errant dream than something dependable, but maybe this once something was on their side.

It started on Thursday.

Robert had called them into his office, the four boys standing before his desk like they had been called in to see the principal rather than their adoptive father. Robert took his time – fiddling with papers and trinkets, savoring their anxiety – before looking up at them.

“You are to go to the pep rally tomorrow night, and on Saturday I expect you to attend the game.”

Bill couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Why?” Eddie asked.

Robert turned to him with a grin. “There isn’t going to be a fight night tomorrow because of the town’s pep rally for the first game of the season. I don’t know why a town would be so enthusiastic over a losing team, but Butch assures me it’s tradition.”

“But why do we have to go?” Eddie asked.

Bill wanted to cover Eddie’s mouth before he could stick his foot further into it. He couldn’t fathom why Eddie was questioning this newfound freedom, it was like he wanted to stay in instead of being a normal teenager. Bill hid his frustration, continuing to stare at Robert as he spoke.

“Because, Eddie-bear, it’s all to due with small town politics. Small towns like Derry don’t welcome newcomers, they don’t like anyone who’s grandparents didn’t know their own since kindergarten. These people are suspicious by nature. Now luckily we have an in, but it’s only with the good working people who like to enjoy a fight now and again. The rest of this town doesn’t know us from Adam, and don’t have to trust their neighbors about us either. It is important that we are seen at town functions like the pep rally as a sign of good faith. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Will you be there?” Mike asked.

Robert’s grin turned nasty. “No.”

“Where will you be?” Eddie asked his breathing becoming irregular.

“Butch invited Frank, Norbert, Alvin, and me to go out to the racetracks in Lewiston.” 

So apparently it wasn’t that important that they – the grown ups – be at the pep rally. Bill found that ironic, but couldn’t help but be relieved all the same.

“So we’re to go out for the evening, no strings attached? No babysitters?” Mike asked.

“That’s right, Michael. You’re big boys now, you should be able to handle yourselves. And if I hear from anyone that you were a nuisance you won’t be let out again until you’ve proven you’re sorry. Is that understood?”

So there would be no formal watcher, only an entire town. Bill wondered how easily four boys could disappear into the crowd, he figured pretty well. There must be a catch somewhere. Robert wouldn’t just let them go. It was all too easy.

“You look constipated, Denbrough. What’s going through your tiny mind?” Robert asked.

Bill flushed. “I w-wasn’t expecting it is all.”

Robert studied him. Bill resisted the urge to fidget or look away.

“It’s harder in a small town. To fit in, to go unnoticed. I’m not happy about letting you go, but tongues will wag if you aren’t there. Butch assures me of it.” Robert seemed to be saying this more to himself than to them. He turned to Eddie, “I expect you to keep curfew. You’ll make sure you and the others get back safely, won’t you Eddie? I can count on you, right?”

Eddie nodded.

“Good boy.”

Eddie couldn’t help the pleasure which soared in his chest. He felt like Judas when he knew he would end up betraying Jesus. Eddie couldn’t look at his friends.

“Now you’ve wasted enough of my time. Get ready for bed.”

The boys left Robert’s office without a glance back. He had his doubts about letting them go, but Butch was right. People were already talking about their move into the house on Neibolt Street. The house no one wanted, the one people thought was cursed. It didn’t help that Robert’s only associates were rough working men. The only count in his favor were his friendships with Norbert Keene and Sheriff Bowers, but even that wasn’t enough to keep the housewives tongues still. Robert knew that they wondered about the four boys who had shown up without a mother. Those same women worried about his children’s worn clothes and bruises which couldn’t always be tied to school fights. It was no good, Robert needed to ingratiate them some how or else authorities he wanted to avoid would be called, and unlike Chicago there would be nowhere to run. Robert was out of favors.

Robert picked up the letter opener, looking at the glint of the dull blade in the light. They had to go to the game, show everyone that they were normal. That would get the worried mothers to shut up. And Robert was certain they wouldn’t try to run. After all the whole town would be there, and Eddie would stop them. Robert knew he had trained Eddie too well to disobey him and without any other catalysts the others would surely follow his lead. Luckily the boys didn’t have any school chums, of that Robert was sure. He set the knife down. He had wondered what would have happened if the boys had ever been able to make friends, what he would have been forced to do, but it had never happened. And in such a small town like Derry it was unlikely. After all who would want to befriend such a strange lot of motherless fags?

–

The next evening and the whole town was out in the cool September air. While the Derry Tigers sucked, there was still a lot of love for the team, and nearly everyone in town showed up to support the high school. It was nothing compared to the festivals held throughout the summer, but even so there was an air excitement that was the same. People milled about Memorial Park waiting for the festivities to begin. From the loudspeakers of the bandstand music played until Principal Johns and Coach Smith would kick off the whole thing with speeches. Then the bonfire would be lit and the party would get started. But for now people were chatting with their neighbors. Some kids had set off some sparklers down the way. Others were running around, great red balloons following them like a beacon as they duck and wove between the legs of grownups.

In the anonymity of the crowd, Eddie, Bill, Mike, and Georgie were free from the prying eyes of Robert and his friends. While they still would have to be cautious, the freedom was absolutely intoxicating. For the first time in their lives they felt like regular teenagers.

The group had found a bench near the edge of the crowd which offered an uninterrupted view of the proceedings. 

Mike looked out into the sea of mostly white people and couldn’t help but be reminded that he was different. Once he thought he caught a black man staring at him, but as soon as he turned to look the man had disappeared. Mike wondered if he had imagined the whole thing, but something had seemed familiar about the man. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

In the opposite direction, Bill watched as Stan and Richie approached the park. They were walking with two women who he assumed must be their mothers. The group seemed in the midst of an entertaining conversation, when Richie stopped mid-sentence catching sight of the boys on the bench. Taking off like a shot he raced toward them. Stan and their mothers approached at a slower pace, but Bill could see the same eagerness that had been in Richie’s actions on their faces.

“Eddie Spaghetti, Mike, Big Bill, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I hate it when you call me that,” Eddie said.

“Plans change,” Mike said with a shrug.

“And who’s the little man?” Richie asked.

“Georgie meet Richie, Richie this is my l-little b-brother,” Bill said.

Richie stuck his hand out, “nice meeting you, King George.”

Georgie looked to Bill before taking Richie’s hand. “That’s an awful accent. What’s it supposed to be?”

“Trans-Atlantic, ol’ sport.”

“Sounds terrible.” Georgie said with a grin.

“You’ll get used to the bad accents, I’m Stan by the way.” Stan and the others had reached their bench by now and Stan shook Georgie’s hand.

“Gang, meet our mothers. Mothers meet the gang,” Richie said without dropping the accent.

“Richie, enough. I’m Maggie,” Maggie Tozier said.

“Andrea,” the woman beside her said. “We’ve heard quite a bit about you all.”

“Mom,” Stan flushed.

“Sorry, Stan. It was all good things, I assure you.”

In the fading light Bill thought he had never seen anyone quite so beautiful as Andrea Uris. There was a softness and gentleness to her that was perhaps best magnified by the beige sherpa sweater she wore. Bill noticed she had the same eyes as her son, and smile lines wrapped around her heart-shaped face framed by soft curls. There was a warmth to her smile, and although it was different Bill was reminded painfully of his own mother.

“We’ll let you boys be,” Maggie said flashing a smile so much like Richie’s. “Lord knows you can’t get into trouble with a bunch of old women hanging around.”

“Trouble? We wouldn’t dare,” Richie said eyes gleaming.

Maggie put her hand on her son’s head, a gesture of pure love. While any other teenage boy would be mortified, Richie seemed to bask in the affection. 

Maggie pulled away.“I know, sweetheart. Have a good evening, boys. Don’t let my son convince you into too much stupidity.”

“W-we won’t.”

Bill watched as the women walked away chatting cheerily as they went.

“So those are your moms?” Eddie asked, his voice full of longing and curiosity.

“Yeah,” Richie said. “You jealous?”

“My mom’s dead,” Eddie said dispassionately.

“We sorta figured, you coming here with your dad and all,” Richie said.

“Robert’s my godfather, raised me since I was a baby.”

“Harsh.” Richie said.

Eddie shrugged, “I’ve never known anything else.”

“You sound like fucking Oliver Twist, man, sad orphan boy.”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Eddie said.

“And the rest of you?” Richie asked. “Were you orphans too?”

“Yeah. My parents abandoned me when I was a kid, and the foster system placed me with Robert. Eventually he adopted me,” Mike said.

“Do you remember your parents at all?” Stan asked.

Mike shook his head. “Not really. Sometimes I think I can remember them, but it’s only in the corners of my memory like shadows. They’re not really there, but I feel them with me.”

“It sounds like you loved them,” Stan said.

“I did.”

“And they left you?” Stan asked.

Mike looked away.

“Shit, I’m sorry. That’s a stupid thing to ask.” Stan said.

“No. It’s okay. It was a long time ago,” Mike said. But even so no one pressed him.

“What about you, King George, what’s your story?” Richie asked.

“Our parents died in a car crash. The foster care system placed us with Robert since we didn’t have any remaining family. Then he adopted us.” Georgie said.

“Shit, man. It just gets sadder and sadder with you lot.”

“Maybe d-don’t swear around my b-b-baby brother.”

“I’m hardly a baby,” Georgie said.

“You let Stan get away with,” Richie said at the same time.

“Sorry,” Stan said. It was so after the fact that Bill couldn’t help but smile.

“M-maybe I just like him b-b-better.”

Richie scoffed. “Yeah of course. Everyone loves Stanabelle. Just my luck he’s your favorite.”

In the dying sunlight, Bill could just make out the flush spreading across Stan’s cheeks.

“Don’t worry, Richie. Even with your shitty accents you’re my favorite,” Georgie said.

Richie laughed. “King George, you are by far the coolest middle schooler I know. High five.”

“Do you know a lot of middle schoolers?” Eddie asked.

“Nope. Although with your height you’d probably fit in with middle schoolers,” Richie said.

“I’m an average height. It’s not my fault I’m surrounded by tall people,” Eddie said.

“Richie just likes hanging around people with the same maturity level as him, thus middle schoolers,” Stan said.

“Stan the Man, gets off a good one,” Richie said. “And Eds, toots, you’re short.”

Eddie pouted at the gentle teasing. He couldn’t believe someone so entirely dorky could be so charming at the same time. The gate he kept between himself and everyone else, the one that had been wedged just a bit open with the first laugh in the cafeteria, was now swinging a bit wider. How long would it be until everything he had kept buried inside him would come flooding out as an unstoppable tidal wave?

“Where are Beverly and Ben?” Mike asked.

“On a date,” Stan said.

Richie gagged. “Gross.”

“They’ll show up when the bonfire starts,” Stan said.

“So you’re new here, have you discovered any fun hangouts?” Richie asked.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked.

“Well personally I’m a big fan of the arcade at the Aladdin.”

“Richie likes to rot what little is left of his brain out there,” Stan said.

“Not true! I’ve got a lot to rot. Big brain stored here, Uris,” Richie tapped his temple.

Stan rolled his eyes while the others laughed. Only Eddie seemed to remain sullen.

“Stan favors the ladies section at Freese’s –”

“Fuck off.”

“So have you found any cool hangouts of your own?” Richie asked ignoring Stan’s interruption.

“Not really, we’ve kind of been busy with school and unpacking,” Mike said.

“There can’t be that much to unpack, Beverly said you didn’t come with much to begin with,” Richie said.

“Beverly?” Mike asked suddenly on the alert. No one seemed to pick up on his malaise.

“Sure. She and her dad helped Sheriff Bowers move you in,” Richie said.

“Oh?” Mike asked.

“She didn’t tell you?” Stan asked.

Mike shook his head. “Guess not.”

“Well that’s how we knew you’d be here. She told us to befriend you at least until you found your feet and could find friends of your own,” Richie said.

The distrust in Mike’s gut made him feel sick. Beverly wouldn’t betray them. She wasn’t like her father, but maybe it was just an act. Just like how Robert Gray was just an act. Mike looked at Stan and Richie and wondered if they knew the truth. Beverly would have told them right? If she knew that was. Or would she keep it between her father and herself. Did Ben know? Or was he just being paranoid, being what Robert wanted him to be, scared and dependent on only him?

“Mike, you okay?” Eddie asked, sensing the tension in the boy beside him.

Mike flashed an easy-going smile. “Course. Just a chill. That’s all.”

Eddie curled up into his side. Mike couldn’t help but catch the curious look Richie gave them.

“My l-legs are g-getting stiff. I’m going for a w-walk,” Bill said.

“I’ll join you,” Stan said.

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Eddie said.

“Nah, there’s not enough r-r-room for all of us anyway. Do you want to come, G-Georgie?”

“I’ll stay.”

Bill looked puzzled but he didn’t press it. “Do you m-mind keeping an eye on him?”

“Take your walk, old man. We’ll be fine,” Mike said.

“W-we’ll be b-b-back soon.” Bill said.

“Enjoy the promenade,” Richie said dropping back into the goddamn accent.

The boys on the bench watched them leave, none of them commented on the nervous pleasure radiating from the two boys, but they were all aware of it.

–

“Is it always t-t-this chilly this early?” Bill asked wrapping his arms around himself.

“It’s a little colder than usual, but not by much. I thought if you could survive a Chicago winter you would be able to manage a Maine fall,” Stan teased.

“Weren’t there in the w-w-winter.”

“Oh? Where were you before Chicago?”

“Vegas.”

Stan’s eyes widened. “Did you like it there?”

“It’s not really w-what everyone e-expects.”

“What’s it like?”

“D-dead during the d-day. Like the whole town is sleeping off their h-h-hangover. It’s quiet. The light is d-different too. Sharper. B-brighter. It’s like it’s unfiltered. And it’s w-warm all the time, except the evenings. Those get c-cold. Especially out in the d-desert. At n-n-night the whole city glows neon. People w-walk around with b-booze from one casino to the n-next. Everything is a p-party. Well until the next sunrise.”

Stan was staring at him, and Bill wondered if he had said too much.

“That was beautiful.” Stan said at last.

“What w-was?”

“Your description. You could be a writer.”

“I w-want to be.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“What sort of stories do you like to write?”

Bill wanted to say he wrote beautiful ones. Stories filled with people who fell in love with one another, people who weren’t broken or damaged, people who hadn’t had their hearts torn out or their lives destroyed. He wanted to tell Stan he wrote happy endings.

“T-tragedies.”

Stan looked at the horizon, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I suppose that makes sense given all you’ve experienced.”

Bill looked away, not sure why he felt shame tighten his chest.

“Will you tell me one of your stories?” Stan asked.

“Now?”

“Doesn’t have to be. But someday I’d like to hear one of your stories, Bill.”

“Sure.” Bill said. He would tell Stan a story, only this one would have a happy ending.

“We should probably head back,” Stan said.

They circled around the park and cut through the crowds back to where their friends were waiting.

–

When Stan and Bill got back they found that Beverly and Ben had joined the group. They had brought a large picnic blanket and were currently sitting on it with Richie.

“Where were you two off to?” Beverly asked, a mischievous sparkle to her eye.

“Just trying to warm up,” Stan said.

“Sure, warm up.” Beverly wiggled her eyebrows.

“C’mere Stanny. I’ve got all the warmth you need,” Richie said tugging Stan down to the blanket.

Stan fell on top of Richie with an undignified snort. He laughed shoving Richie away from him, but the other boy caught hold and pulled him into a cuddle. 

“Richie, cut it out.”

“Why should I, snookems?”

“Just cause your whole family is open with PDA does not mean I am.”

“Stan, you’re practically family. My mom puts out a stocking for you come Christmas. You would think you would be used to the Tozier Family PDA by now.”

“Get off me, Richie.”

“You’d accept it if it were coming from Wentworth.”

“No I wouldn’t. And would you quit insinuating that I want to fuck your dad. It’s weird.”

“My dad is super fuckable, don’t diss Wentworth like that.”

“Richie, get off!”

The other Losers watched Stan struggle with various degrees of amusement. At long last Stan was able to break free. He backed away from Richie, leaning against Bill’s legs.

“Sure run to Big Bill. He can’t protect you from shit.”

“I told you R-Richie. I could t-take you in a f-f-fight.”

The other boys on the bench turned to stare at Bill, their surprise poorly hidden.

Richie just laughed. “Look Stanny, you finally found a knight to defend your honor.”

“Leave him alone, Richie.” Ben said.

“Maybe I’m jealous, Haystack. You’ve already found your knight in shining armor leaving me out in the cold.”

“You want a knight in shining armor?” Eddie asked.

“Baby, I take all kinds in just about anything,” Richie said with a terrible wink.

“That is an awful line,” Eddie said.

“I’d even take you and your fannypack.”

Eddie flushed.

“Not so awful a line was it?”

The others just stared.

The music cut out. Before it was replaced by Principal Johns’ voice. He began his speech like he did every year.

“C’mon let’s go closer to the bonfire. I want a good seat,” Beverly said getting up.

She and Ben shoved Richie off the large blanket before folding it up. They grabbed it and another one which had been sitting on the grass before leading the group towards the fire pit. The area was still relatively clear as most people were staying by the bandstand to hear the rest of the speeches so they had their pick of the place.

They found a soft clump of grass, close enough to the fire to be warm, but not so close that they would get too hot. Beverly and Ben spread out the first blanket, a red and white checkered affair, while Stan and Richie worked on the second one which was a deep blue. They overlapped the blankets slightly so that no matter what configuration they settled on they would still be a group. Ben sat with Beverly on the checkered blanket. After a moment’s hesitation, Mike and Eddie joined them. 

Richie took his place where the two blankets met, his elbow brushed against Eddie as he flopped down. Stan sat on the other side of him, and Bill and Georgie at the edge. Naturally, they had formed a rough semi-circle.

The speeches ended and there were some cheers as the Derry Band started up the school’s anthem. A lone figure approached the woodpile holding a torch aloft like she was some sort of statue of liberty. She lit a few of the boy scouts’ own torches before they surrounded the bonfire and lit it. The cheers redoubled in volume as people began to settle around the bonfire. Some had blankets like the Losers. But a lot of them just floated around the fire striking up conversation with whomever fell in their paths. The logs crackled, popping occasionally, and a steady steam of smoke was carried to the sky.

In the flickering light, Beverly’s hair glowed. She was curled up in Ben’s lap talking to him about everything and nothing. Mike watched them and decided that Beverly couldn’t know about her father. There were always tells with the men who thirsted for violence. No matter how well they thought that they could hide there was always something that ended up giving them away. Beverly didn’t have it. There was only a quiet strength about her tonight which demanded nothing but comfort. She couldn’t know about the cage, or what happened there, not the way she was looking around the circle, eyes shining in the light. There was too much love there, even for the people who had mistreated her and barely trusted her. Mike marveled at her ability to forgive and love. He felt guilty for doubting her for so long.

Beverly looked around the circle and felt so full. She had never cared for popularity, had never been interested in it or wanted it, but surrounded by these people she felt what must certainly be the draw to it. She loved how the seven of them, eight including Georgie, just seemed to fit. It was nice to hear all the overlapping conversations and to know that despite everything they were well on the way to being friends. Sure there were still secrets, but Beverly was sure all would be revealed with time. She loved them all. Her boys. The thought made her smile.

Somewhere along the way, Eddie found himself without a conversation. Mike and Ben were discussing things with Beverly, and Stan and Georgie were in the midst of their own conversation much to Bill’s amusement. Eddie listened to both conversations, but didn’t really care to add to either. He sat alone with his thoughts.

The first seed of rebellion had been planted with that cafeteria laugh, and now it was taking root. Eddie wanted nothing more than to let it break through the gate in his head and follow that laugh into the wide world. All he had to do was ignore the shriek of betrayal which screamed throughout his entire system. Judas. He thought about the ever approaching curfew, and the widening gate in his head. Judas or the Knight in Shining Armor? Who was he willing to betray and for how much?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Richie asked.

Eddie turned to find Richie laying on the blankets looking up at him. His glasses gleamed in the firelight, his eyes wide with curiosity. It was that open look so much like a puppy which wore at Eddie concious.

“You don’t want to pay for my thoughts.”

“Sure I do.” Richie sat up and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He fumbled for a moment or so before pulling out a coin. He passed it to Eddie.

“This is an arcade token.”

“Shit.” Richie swiped it back before pulling out a bright copper penny. He pressed it into Eddie’s palm, the cool metal leaving a mark, and said, “there. Legal tender. Now you have to tell me your thoughts.”

“You’re so dumb,” Eddie said marveling at how much effort Richie had gone through just for a stupid joke. The penny felt weightier than its worth.

“Maybe, but I still paid fair and square. Even a joker deserves to hear the words of a philosopher when he has no chance of comprehending. Especially when he has paid. Admit it Eds, I got you.”

“You certainly have. I was considering the problem of Judas.”

“Ah, the Bible. Maybe this is one for Stan. Stanny, my dear, what do you know about Judas betraying our Lord and Savior, Jesus?”

“Not much seeing as I’m Jewish,” Stan said before turning back to his conversation with Georgie.

Richie shrugged. “I’m afraid our Jewish philosopher will be of no help, so it’s just you and me. Tell me what’s got you tied up with Ischariot on this beautiful evening?”

“I guess I want to know why he betrayed Jesus for silver.”

“Maybe because he cared more for earthly things than spiritual,” Richie said. “You know the here and now rather than the here after.”

“I guess.”

“You’re worrying your lip to death. That’s not the end of it, is it?”

“I just don’t know how he could betray someone he was so close to.”

“To be fair he did commit suicide afterwards.”

“But he still went through with it.”

“You seem pretty hung up on this betrayal thing.” Richie said.

Eddie looked away. “Yeah.”

“’The fault, dear Brutus, is not in the stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.’”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Shakespeare, Eds. Look up Brutus from _Julius Caesar_ , and then we can talk betrayal.”

Eddie wanted to ask more and then his watch began to beep. Half an hour until curfew. He looked around the semi-circle unsure of how to let them know it was time to leave. As much as he wanted to stay with them the gate in his head hadn’t opened enough to let the White Knight in. And while the rebellious plant was pushing its way out, it too wasn’t strong enough. He couldn’t betray Robert’s trust in him. Not tonight. Judas had won, but the guilt of betraying his friends burned like ice. 

Eddie tugged Mike’s shirt sleeve.

“Time to go?” Mike asked.

Eddie nodded.

“Alright then, let’s go.” Eddie was grateful that there was no resentment in his tone.

Bill and Georgie were slower to be drawn away, but there was no anger from them either. Goodbyes were said and tentative promises were made to meet up at the game the next day.

Bill, Georgie, Mike, and Eddie walked home, the smell of smoke clinging to their clothes.

– 

After getting home, two lights burned through the night. In Bill and Georgie’s room, Bill stayed up to write a short story for Stan. A story which contained a happy ending. He ended up writing about two sandpipers that lost their mother among the surf, and ultimately found her in the dunes. It was inspired by a memory of when their parents took them to the beach one summer. Bill remembered watching the squat little birds hopping around the shallows. He had loved them at first sight. With their long, narrow beaks, and inquisitive eyes they seemed like something which might make Stan smile. And although the story began with tragedy, the baby birds were quickly reunited with the mama bird.

In another room, just down the hall, Eddie couldn’t sleep. While Bill had been brushing his teeth, Eddie had snuck into his room to grab his mother’s old _Complete Works of William Shakespeare_.

Eddie had turned to _Julius Caesar_ and had begun to read. It had taken him awhile to grow accustomed to the difficult language, but luckily there were summaries for each of the scenes. He found the story to be about Brutus and the other conspirators planning to kill Julius Caesar on the Ides of March before he could be crowned king. The conspirators were made to be sympathetic at the start, and Brutus in particular was shown to be levelheaded. He betrayed Caesar because he thought he was doing what was right for Rome.

Eddie was instantly drawn to the character. Unlike Judas, Brutus was posed as a good man. He had acted for the good of Rome, and although he died in the end, he died with dignity and honor. His enemies recognized his actions as that of a man trying to do what was right.

Eddie began to wonder if he was really betraying Robert at all by making friends. Perhaps he was just doing what was best for him, best for Rome. The image of Judas was swiftly being replaced by one greater than him. Brutus.

Eddie didn’t sleep well that night as he pondered on who’s authority he was acting upon. Who was betraying whom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter this week because frankly I think we all deserve this. Myself included.
> 
> Thank you for the outpouring of support on the last chapter! I loved reading all the comments so much. You all truly are the best fans an author could ask for. I will be posting later this week, and the next few chapters are about to get good -- like y'all ain't even ready.
> 
> So please leave your thoughts below! Should I do more midweek bonus chapters? (I think I can guess the answer to that one...) What do you think is coming up that has me so deviously excited!? I am dying to hear your predictions. And I'm not giving any hints this time, because honestly a little suspense might do y'all some good...
> 
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	9. Chapter 9

The next day was the big football game.

Robert woke up with a killer hangover which was a painful reminder of his own mortality. He really shouldn’t have kept drinking last night, but it was the first time in years that he had been able to go out and not worry what the brats were up to. There was only so much they could do themselves, as a small town like Derry didn’t afford them the same temptations as Chicago, Las Vegas, or New York. And while he hadn’t been there to supervise personally, dozens of Derry parents had been chaperoning last night’s events and today’s for that matter. He thought that maybe he would spend this afternoon in, as the thought of watching the Derry Tigers lose another game held no interest. The brats would need to go, but Robert knew how to keep them in line.

He left his room to unlock their doors. Eddie was passed out with one of Bill’s books weighing heavily on his chest. Robert smirked. Eddie was stronger than he thought. Any boy with real trouble breathing wouldn’t have been able to comfortably fall asleep with the added weight. Robert wondered how Eddie would respond if he ever found out all those little pills he took were nothing but sugar pills, and the inhaler he cherished held nothing but camphor water. It would devastate him, and as delicious as that ruination would be, holding Eddie prisoner in his own body was much more fun. Heat sparked below Robert’s stomach.

Robert moved to Mike’s room next. The other boy was making a clean heal of things which was good. Robert had made quite a tidy sum off of him and Bill from last week’s fight and he would hate to put his prize winner out to pasture so soon after the move. Robert let his thoughts drift to the burned barn on the hill and wondered if he would ever reveal the truth to Mike. Robert thought that maybe he would tell Mike after they left Derry, when it was too late for him to do anything about it. Another spark of pleasure ignited in his belly, the fire would be a hot one today.

Robert unlocked the Denbroughs’ door. Bill ever the deep sleeper heard nothing, but Georgie opened his eyes groggily at the sound of the intrusion. He must have sensed someone watching him and primal instinct had kicked in. Robert smiled and crooked his finger, gesturing that the boy should follow him.

Georgie did as instructed and followed Robert into the hall.

“Go make breakfast,” Robert said throwing him the key to the refrigerator and cabinets. “I want something greasy.”

Georgie nodded and padded down the stairs quickly. Robert watched as the gloom swallowed his form. When he had agreed to foster the brothers it was Georgie that he had been interested in. Bill was convenient as he was old enough to fight, but Robert already had a prize winner. It had always been about Georgie. He was the reason that Robert had gone through the trouble of adopting them. Georgie with his big brown eyes, framed with long delicate lashes. Georgie was irresistible. When he had tears in his eyes Robert wanted to ravage him even more. But he had to hold off, he couldn’t give into his temptations quite yet. Because if Bill ever found out how Robert lusted for his little brother he would never get Bill back in the ring and that wasn’t something he was ready to give up. At least not yet, not when he could earn double from the bookies and fight owners. The pay was too good. Once Bill had out grown his usefulness, then Robert could discard him and have his way with Georgie. That day was growing ever closer.

Robert was hard at the thought. He returned to his room to take care of his little issue and wondered how much longer he would have to wait for his prize.

–

The other boys woke to smell of food cooking. Bill turned over in his bed and found Georgie’s empty. Robert must have gotten Georgie up to go cook for him. Hatred reared it’s head, but before it could take hold Bill’s stomach grumbled at the smell of bacon. Instead of being angry at Robert Bill figured that maybe he should go help Georgie.

It appeared that Mike and Eddie had had similar thoughts as the three boys met on the landing. Robert’s door was closed, no doubt locked, so they trio headed directly down stairs.

Georgie was in the kitchen. Coffee was brewing in the pot. Grease from the bacon spittled and hissed, splashing Georgie’s arms. Bill could already make out some burns. He moved to his younger brother, turning the heat of the stove down. He led Georgie to the sink and ran cool water over the little marks.

Mike moved to man Georgie’s station, while Eddie began pulling dishes out. They worked effectively as a unit, and soon enough breakfast was laid out in the dark dining room. Robert had forbidden them from ever opening the faded brocade curtains so they waited in the gloom for his arrival. The curtains had once been a deep rich red to help induce the inhabitant's appetites, but now they were sadly moth eaten and dusty. Even so Bill couldn’t help but feel that he was in the maw of some ancient creature.

Robert came downstairs presently. He walked past the light switch, leaving it off, and took a seat. He eyed the meal; bacon cooked just to his liking, crunchy never soft; black coffee poured just to the brim; eggs fried over medium, salted and peppered.

“Very good, Georgie.”

Georgie looked away at the praise. Robert should have liked to see his eyes. That would be the first thing to teach him.

Robert began eating while the boys watched, ravenous, waiting for a signal to begin. After a few bites Robert looked up and nodded.

Plates were passed around and food was served.

“I want you boys out of the house today,” Robert said. “I expect you to go to the football game, and when it is over you will come directly back.”

“Yes, sir.” Mike said.

“All except Georgie.”

The table froze. 

Georgie turned those big eyes on Robert and he could feel himself stiffening up in his pants again. Bill was also looking at him in a decidedly less pleasurable manner.

“W-why?” Bill asked.

“Because, young boys like you shouldn’t need to worry about babysitting at a high school football game. You’re there to mingle.”

“Mingle?” Eddie’s voice was higher than normal.

“Yes.”

“With who?” Eddie asked.

“Your peers. I am not expecting you to go out and make friends,” Robert spat the word out, “but you must put up appearances otherwise there will be talk.”

“I don’t m-mind watching G-Georgie.”

“I know Bill, but I need him to help me around the house. It’s filthy, no surprise with four growing boys, but I am in no way your mother and I will not clean up all your messes.”

“I can stay to h-help. Eddie and M-Mike can g-go without m-me.” Bill said.

“That’s very noble of you, Bill, but I am afraid I have made up my mind. You will go to the football game with the others, and Georgie will stay here with me to clean up the place.” Robert said with a finality that meant the conversation was over. He returned to his food, and if the boys knew what was best they would as well.

Bill pushed his plate away and stormed out the dining room. While such actions would usually result in him being grounded, Robert was in no mood to have Bill hanging around the house today. He let him go and turned his eye to the three remaining boys.

Eddie began shoveling egg into his mouth; Mike was careful to look anywhere but directly at him. And Georgie had big fat tears forming in his eyes. Robert decided that today was going to be a wonderful day, hangover and all.

–

Around 1pm the boys that were leaving were shooed out of the house after Robert exacted promises from each of them that they would return once the game had ended. Bill walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his head down. While he had been excited by the prospects of seeing Stan and the others, any joy surrounding the day had left. All he could do was worry about Georgie.

Mike and Eddie sensed Bill’s distress and remained quiet on the walk over to the school. There was a crispness in the air, heralding the start of fall, and Eddie found himself pulling his sweater tighter around his shoulders.

By the time they had arrived at the field, the other Losers were already there.

“Hey!” Beverly waved them over to where they were sitting on the bleachers. She caught one look at Bill and asked, “what’s wrong?”

“Bill’s just worried about Georgie. He woke up not feeling well.” Mike said.

“Aw that sucks,” Richie said. “I was looking forward to regaling King George with some of my best impressions.”

“Trust me, he’s not missing much,” Stan said.

Bill cracked the smallest of smiles at that one. Even though he was still concerned he found himself relaxing instinctively in Stan’s presence. He felt guilty immediately.

“So does anyone here actually know anything about football?” Beverly asked.

“A little,” Mike admitted.

Beverly smiled. She tugged Mike over to the bleachers where Ben was sitting. “Oh good. You’re going to have to explain it to us because we know absolutely nothing.”

Mike laughed and sat down next to Beverly. Stan and Richie took the next row. Bill sat beside Stan; Eddie beside Richie.

The game begun.

“I d-d-didn’t think you liked sports,” Bill said trying to make conversation. Guilt gnawed at the pit of his stomach, but he couldn’t sit next to Stan and mope, that would only lead to more suspicion.

Stan cracked a small smile. “I don’t, but every now and again we come and watch the masses cheer for their favorite team. It’s nice to feel like a regular high schooler, ya know?”

Bill nodded, he knew more than Stan would ever suspect. He pulled his battered notebook from his interior coat pocket. “H-here. A story for you. The last earmark.”

Stan smiled his sarcastic teasing smile. “You wrote me a story? I’m flattered.”

Bill blushed, the words tied on the tip of his tongue.

“I’m kidding. I know you didn’t actually write me a story, and you’re just showing me one. Can I read it now?”

Bill nodded. He had in fact written the story for Stan. Why couldn’t he just admit to it? But now Stan’s brow was scrunched adorably as his eyes scanned Bill’s words. He was biting his lip as he read and once again Bill wanted to kiss those lips. Trying to gauge Stan’s reaction was torture, so Bill forced his eyes away to watch the game.

In front of them he could hear Mike explaining some of the plays to Beverly and Ben. Bill was surprised. He didn’t know that Mike knew so much about the game. Sure he was a natural athlete, and was good at every sport he had tried through PE, but that didn’t mean he had memorized strategies for all of them. Bill wondered if the invitation to join the Derry Football team had been more painful than Mike had let on. He would have to ask Eddie later.

Eddie was freezing. The metal beneath his ass was cold and painful, and the wind was colder here than it was by Neibolt Street.

“I read _Julius Caesar_.”

“Last night?” Richie turned, the surprise was evident on his face.

Eddie nodded.

“What did you think?”

“I liked it. It was kinda hard to get used to the language, but I liked how the betrayers were shown to be people not just bloodthirsty villains. I just wish that they had died heroes, that Marc Antony didn’t sway the public against them.”

Richie nodded. “Sure, but that’s politics, baby. One minute the crowds adore you for what you’ve done. The next and you’re out.”

Eddie shivered. “Sure, but it still sucks.”

“You cold, Spaghetti?”

“What?”

“Need to be reheated in Richie Tozier’s microwave of love?”

“Beep beep.” Eddie said. He scooted away from Richie on the bleacher as the boy had begun to flail a little. In fact Richie was shrugging off his jean jacket. He placed it around Eddie’s shoulders, instantly surrounding him in his warm cologne. The jacket, which was a little big on Richie, dwarfed Eddie. He was all but swimming in it.

Richie looked at Eddie in his jean jacket and smiled. “Cute.”

The heat from the compliment worked wonders on warming Eddie from the inside out. He blushed, ducking his head.

“So tell me Eds, why are you so worried about betrayal?”

“I –”

Warning bells were sounding in Eddie’s head. He wasn’t sure how to answer without incriminating himself or Robert.

“I just find it fascinating, how people can be turned so easily against their partners or friends.”

“Bullshit.” Richie said without unkindness. “There’s something in there, Eds, something that’s bothering you. I’m determined to find out. My friends call me Sherlock Holmes.”

“They do not,” Eddie said.

“Oh yes they do.”

Eddie tapped Beverly’s shoulder, she turned to look at him, cheeks pink from the cold. “Hiya, Eddie, what’s up?”

“Do you actually call Richie Sherlock Holmes?”

Beverly laughed, a large living thing, bright in color. “Fuck no. He’s one of the Hardy Boys.”

“What?”

She smiled, “don’t worry your pretty head about it. And don’t listen to Richie’s lies.”

She turned back to the game leaving Eddie to look over at Richie. “What did she mean you’re one of the Hardy boys?”

“It’s a joke, nothing serious.” Richie said. He didn’t want to admit that they were all curious about the new kids’ origins and Eddie’s peculiar purchases.

“Oh.” Eddie frowned.

“C’mon Eds, I’m a great secret keeper. Tell me why you’ve got the hots for betrayal.”

“No.”

“Were you betrayed by your past lover?”

“I – what? No!”

“You were. Was she a breathtakingly beautiful dame, with long legs and sparkly eyes? Did she break your heart?”

“What the fuck are you going on about?” Eddie was laughing. How could Richie go from begging to know the dark truth to suggesting something so ridiculous just to put him at ease? And more importantly why did Eddie like it so much?

“It’s okay, Eds. I know just the cure for heartache.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Sure. You’ve come to the right guy.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he listened to Richie’s diatribe on the cures to heartbreak. And for once he didn’t worry about the rows of pills bottles on his dresser or the inhaler he always carried with him. Instead he allowed himself to buy into the silly panaceas, superstitious rituals, and medications because it was Richie who was selling them.

–

“W-what did you think?” Bill asked as Stan finished reading.

“It’s beautiful,” Stan said.

“Yeah?”

“Bill, you’re really talented.”

Bill flushed at the praise.

“Have you ever shown your work to anyone?” Stan asked.

Bill shook his head.

Stan didn’t understand the implication that he was the first person other than Bill to see his work. “I think you should show this to Epping.”

“W-why?”

“He’s a published author, I think he’d love to see it. He might even mentor you if you asked.”

“M-maybe.”

Stan sensed his hesitation and was eager to convince Bill of how much it meant to him to read his work. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” 

Stan was still holding the book to his chest, like it was something precious. Bill wouldn’t want to take it back from him for the whole world.

“Can I a-ask you something?”

Stan nodded.

“Why does B-Bowers hate you so m-much?”

Bill hated watching as the brightness in Stan’s face dimmed. Stan dropped the notebook into his lap and began rubbing his thumb over the corner. “They all hate that I’m different.”

It was so soft that the wind almost carried his words away. Bill had to lean in to hear more.

“There aren’t a lot of Jews in Derry, barely enough to fill the synagogue, but that’s not really the point. Did you know Richie and I used to be a year ahead? We’re actually older than Beverly and Ben, but I got held back. Richie could have skipped a grade if he wanted but he decided to stay with me. I was getting bullied pretty intensely by Henry and Patrick and the others, so my mom and dad wanted to hold me back a year. They thought it would help.”

“What d-did they d-do?” Bill hated himself for asking the question.

“Just school yard pranks,” Stan shrugged but he wouldn’t look at Bill. “Stole my kippah more times than I can count. Called me all sorts of names. Tripped me like you saw earlier this week. One time they shoved me into a snow bank so I couldn’t breath. My skin was red and chapped, and I was bleeding. I thought they were going to kill me that day. That’s when my mom decided to homeschool me for the rest of the year. After that I was placed in Beverly’s class.”

Bill felt the rage which boiled just under the surface threaten to take over. He clenched his hands into fists. He couldn’t believe that Stan had suffered such indignities just because of his faith. He had to take a few moments to regain his breathing before he could reply, “I would p-protect you, I w-want to protect you.”

Stan smiled a sad smile that looked all too comfortable on his lips. “You sound like Richie. But I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.”

Bill struggled to find what to say next.

They were somewhere in the second quarter when Ben turned around, relieving Bill from having to say anything.

“I’m getting kind of sore sitting here, what do you say we head to the clubhouse?”

Everyone agreed, even Mike. Although he was enjoying the game, the jealous longing was rising up in him and he was eager to be free of it.

The teens left the crowded high school field and headed toward the Barrens. They walked in twos and threes along the sidewalk, Mike and Ben in the front, Beverly and Richie a little ways behind them, Bill and Eddie next, and Stan trailing aways after them. Bill had wanted to slow down so that he could walk with him, but he sensed that his presence might not be welcome. And he never wanted to do anything that would bring discomfort to Stan, not after the things he had just shared.

Stan walked with his head down, clutching Bill’s notebook to his chest. His head was heavy in memories of the past. He hadn’t meant to share it all with Bill. He didn’t want to look like a coward, but there was something so kindred in Bill that Stan couldn’t resist. He only hoped he hadn’t turned the boy away. He watched Bill and Eddie walk side by side and couldn’t help but be jealous.

Bill plucked at the long sleeve of Eddie’s jean jacket. “This is n-new.”

“Richie’s a jerk.”

“For g-g-giving you his jacket?”

“Shut up.”

“Eddie, d-do you have a crush?”

Eddie flushed at the words. He understood in theory what attraction and crushes were, but having never felt one for himself had struggled to place a name to the emotions he had been feeling. “No.”

“That was an a-awful long p-pause.”

“Whatever. What about you and Stan?”

“W-what about us?”

“Do you? Have a crush on him.”

Bill glanced over his shoulder. Stan met his gaze, sweet and sorrowful. Bill’s heart tightened painfully. He turned back to Eddie, “I’m not r-really in the line of w-work f-for having a b-b-boyfriend.”

Eddie understood loud and clear.

They walked on.

–

At last the group reached the clubhouse. It wasn’t at all what Mike had been expecting. He had thought it would be a treehouse rather than a hole in the ground. His instincts told him not to go down, expecting the smell of mouldering earth and a damp darkness to accompany it. However, he was pleasantly surprised. The clubhouse was dry and clean. The doorway let in a surprising amount of light, the rest was supplemented with battery lanterns. And there was the smell of incense which Mike recognized immediately as Beverly’s own scent, as he had been sitting next to her and it had been caught in her hair. But slowly he realized it was all of the Losers’. They all had it. Sure it varied and was diluted by detergents and deodorants, but the smell was overwhelmingly familiar and comforting.

Old posters adorned the walls, there was battery powered radio in one corner, a hammock in the other. There was a lawn chair and plenty of picnic blankets that looked like they had seen better days. And although everything was old and used, there was a certain loveliness about it all.

“You built this?” Mike asked.

Ben flushed. “Yeah. Took us almost the whole summer to get it right, but it was a fun project.”

Bill was looking around at the posters when he felt Stan tug on shirt sleeve. He turned and found the boy offering his notebook back.

“Will you read me some of your other stories?”

“You d-d-don’t want that.”

“Don’t tell me what I do or don’t want.”

“The other stories, they’re n-not like the one you r-read. They’re s-sad.”

“So?”

“B-besides I stutter, e-especially w-when I have to r-read aloud.”

“I don’t care. Please, Bill?”

Bill couldn’t say no. He nodded and Stan led him over to the hammock. Bill sat first and to his surprise Stan sat right beside him, placing his head on Bill’s shoulder. “Is this alright?”

Bill nodded struck dumb by the sudden proximity. Stan smelled good, like sweet clover and honeysuckle. It was distracting. Bill tried to buy time by paging through his notebook looking for something at least sorta decent to read to Stan.

Bill found a story that wasn’t too violent, and at least the imagery was nice. He began to read in a low voice so as not to interrupt the other’s conversations.

“It w-was raining that d-day. The wind b-beat the rain down at a harsh angle, b-branches of nearby trees striking the house. T-thunder could b-be heard in the d-distance. Sometimes it was a d-d-deep rolling thing w-which threatened to swallow the town whole. Other t-times it was sharp and j-jagged like the sound of g-glass breaking suddenly.

A little b-boy watched the rain race d-down the window panes, and in the d-distance he could hear his sister practicing piano. It w-was a m-mournful dirge, something perfectly suited to the w-weather. 

The b-boy was bored. He w-wanted to go out and play, but his m-mother had expressly f-forbid it as he was likely to catch a cold playing around in all the w-wet. He thought that w-was awfully silly as he had a b-bright red rain slicker, and large rubber boots that would keep him perfectly d-d-dry. He t-thought m-mothers were often silly.” Here Bill paused thinking about his own mother. “You d-don’t want to hear this. It’s garbage.”

“It is not,” Stan said.

“S-Sure it is. And even if it w-wasn’t it’s a pretty s-sad story.”

“Bill, it’s a good start. I like hearing you read.”

“W-why?”

“You have a soothing voice. It’s quiet, but when you talk it’s impossible not to listen.”

“W-what about my stutter.”

“You hardly notice it once you get started. It just adds to the rhythm of the story.”

Bill ducked his head, ashamed that he had been so vain about his stutter at all.

“You know,” Stan said. “I know what the concealer is for.”

Bill’s heart stopped.

He glanced down at the boy on his shoulder eyes wide with fear.

Stan continued on without acknowledging his gaze. “When I was bullied they bruised me up pretty badly. I thought I could hide it from my parents if I bought make up. Of course Richie and I didn’t know how to match my skin tone, so my mom knew right away, but I know what it’s like trying to hide bruises. That’s what you’re doing right?”

Bill felt a mix of relief that Stan didn’t know the truth about where the bruises came from as well as fear that they had been so close to being found out. Robert was right small towns were different. You couldn’t hide so easily.

–

Richie glanced up to see Bill and Stan in the hammock, heads bowed together. He was reminded of Patroclus and Achilles. Stan was going to hate Richie for thinking so, but there was that timeless bend in his neck as he glanced adoringly up at Bill, something sweet and innocent. Richie had never seen Stan be so open with his emotions.

For years Richie had been all Stan had. He remembered talking with his parents convincing them instead of moving him ahead a grade to let him repeat third grade with Stan. Initially they hadn’t been huge supporters of the idea, but all it took for Maggie was one look at Stan and she knew that Richie would be repeating third grade too. Richie didn’t have any regrets. He didn’t hold anything against Stan because of it. He wondered what would become of him and Stan now that there was a Bill and Eddie in their lives.

Richie glanced over to where Eddie was sitting. He was fiddling with his inhaler not meeting anyone’s eye. Richie moved to him.

“I can hear your thoughts all the way from here.”

Eddie glanced up. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable.

Richie froze. “Woah. I didn’t mean literally. What’s on your mind now?”

Eddie glanced around the room. “There’s something you need to know.”


	10. Chapter 10

If Eddie had been asked afterward why he had said what he said, and he would be asked by Bill and Mike, he wouldn’t be able to answer. Maybe the White Knight had broken through when Bill said he wasn’t in the line for having boyfriends, angered by the unfairness of it all. Or perhaps the rebellious plant had pushed the gate open when Eddie had seen Richie looking at Stan with that soft familiarly fond expression. It could have been in the way Mr. Keene told him to stay away from the Losers or how Robert’s smile curved as his hand wrapped around Georgie’s shoulder this morning. For all Eddie knew it could be the goddamn universe telling him it was time to spill his secrets. It might have been all those things added up or none of them. Maybe Eddie had just wanted to prove that Robert hadn’t done irrevocable damage to him yet, that he was still a free agent. Eddie didn’t know what traitorous thing in him longed to speak the truth or how it gained control, but in that moment it did. Judas changed into Brutus.

As Eddie spoke Richie turned away from Bill and Stan, curiosity written across his face.

“The reason we moved to Derry was because of Robert’s friends.” Eddie said, his tongue tripping over his words as they spilled from his lips.

“Everyone’s got to have friends, Eds. Even you.”

“Not those sort of friends, dumbass. These men are evil.”

“Eddie?” Mike’s voice was pitched dangerously high. 

The others must have heard him because now both Mike and Bill were looking at Eddie, eyes wide with fear. It wasn’t enough to stop Eddie’s treacherous tongue.

“They like to watch kids fight illegally. They make a lot of money off of it.” Everyone in the room was listening now. There was no going back.

“Like _Street Fighter_?” 

Trust Richie to try and make light of a terrible situation.

“No Richie. It’s not like _Street Fighter_. People are getting hurt.” Eddie gasped using his inhaler. “Mike and Bill are getting hurt.” Another sharp inhale. “It’s not a fucking game.”

Beverly’s eyes were wide with shock. For a moment no one moved.

“Is this true?” Ben asked Mike.

Mike nodded once. It was enough.

“Oh my god,” Beverly said. From her tone alone Mike knew Beverly didn’t know the truth, had never known. He felt a strange relief that he had been right about her after all.

Richie turned away from Eddie to Bill. “When you talked about beating me in a fight that wasn’t a joke.”

Bill looked at Stan who had moved away from him and was staring at him with an expression that could only be described as horror. He turned away willing himself to ignore the way his heart was beating so irregularly. “It w-w-wasn’t a joke.”

“Fuck.”

Bill felt a light touch on the inside of his wrist. He turned and found Stan looking up at him. There was fear behind his eyes, and Bill hoped that Stan wasn’t afraid of him. It would kill him if he ever did something to frighten the other boy. 

“You came here to fight?” Stan asked. He needed to hear the truth from Bill.

“Y-yes.”

“Chicago? Las Vegas?”

Bill closed his eyes suddenly feeling frightened. “There t-too.”

Stan fell into Bill’s lap, burying his head into the other boy’s shoulder. Bill was shocked at the open display of comfort, but he breathed in Stan’s scent relaxing into the embrace. The fear and horror hadn’t been directed at Bill, but at the situation which held him captive. He had been silly to think it could have been anything else. Stan was shaking and Bill realized that Stan was angry on his behalf. Bill held onto him never wanting to let go.

On the other side of the clubhouse, Beverly was drawing up a plan.

“We’re going to shut them down. All of them. And we’re going to find you boys a new home. Mr. Gray is going away for a long long time.”

“Beverly, there’s some things you don’t understand,” Mike said.

She turned on him all anger and rage, none of it directed at him. “You better tell me.”

“You’re not going to want to hear it,” Mike said.

“Let me decide for myself.” She smiled, a wild dangerous thing.

“The fighting ring is led by Sheriff Bowers.”

“Well that complicates things,” Ben said.

“And almost the whole town goes out to watch the fights.” Mike took a breath to steady himself. “Including your father.”

“You’re mistaken.”

“He’s there. I met him the first night we went.”

“No.”

“Beverly, where do you think your father goes on Friday nights?” Mike asked.

“He has a poker game with the Sheriff and a couple of his buddies,” even as Beverly said it she knew she sounded naive, nothing more than a stupid, little girl.

“Their w-winnings aren’t from p-poker.” Bill said pulling up the hem of his shirt.

The bruises were a faded, ugly, yellowish green, but there was no denying them.

Beverly looked Mike in the eye. She read the sincerity and pity which lay there and she knew he must be telling the truth.

“Oh my god. I need some air.” Beverly said moving to the ladder.

Once outside the claustrophobia didn’t cease. Her world felt like it was shrinking in upon itself, the air was running out. She couldn’t believe that her father was betting on underage, illegal fights. She didn’t want to believe it. She searched through her memories of going fishing when she was younger, or when he took her out to get her ears pierced, the time he had brought home a kitten he had found by the side of the road. 

There had been so many presents throughout the years, but her favorite had always been the real gold locket he had given her when she had turned fifteen. He had said that now that she was becoming a woman she deserved to have a real woman’s necklace. She had cried when had presented her with it, and had only taken it off when she had to shower or sleep. She had never questioned how he had gotten the money for it, but now she supposed he must have won big at the ring.

He had teased her once about being Daddy’s girl, but she hadn’t minded. Not really. Secretly she enjoyed being his princess, the only girl his heart had room for after her mother left them. She couldn’t believe that the man who had raised her with such gentleness and kindness could be such a brute. She wanted to accuse Mike of lying, but in her heart she knew it wasn’t true.

The Barrens began to swim as tears filled her eyes. Beverly sobbed as the life she had built with her father died right in front of her.

“Bev?”

She turned, and there was Ben standing in a beam of light like a goddamn movie. He seemed hesitant to approach her aware that she may need space to process, and fuck did she love him for it. Beverly laughed a little through her tears. She ran to her boyfriend and cried as he pulled her close. The smell of his cheap cologne and incense tickled her nose, but ultimately it reminded her of all the good times.

“I’m really sorry, sweetheart.”

She pulled back so she could look him in the eye, “once I’m done feeling sorry for myself you better believe we’re going to tear this whole place apart. And if we need to we’ll start with my father.”

“Beverly, you know that’s not necessary.”

“It’s fucking necessary. I’ve grown up with privileges these boys have never known, will never get to know so long as they’re with Mr. Gray. They deserve a life.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Ben smiled. “Sure. You know I’d follow you through hell and back.”

Beverly kissed Ben’s cheek. “We’ve got some work to do now.”

“So we’re Mystery Inc. now?” Ben asked with a smile.

She shook her head. “Still Nancy and Ned. They just don’t have a pithy catch phrase.”

“How bout we’ve got some sleuthing to do now?”

Beverly laughed brushing the last of her tears off her cheeks. “I like it.”

“You ready to head back in?”

Beverly nodded. “But before we go –”

She tore the locket from her neck, the chain snapping easily, and threw it deep into the Barrens. Her neck felt oddly exposed without it, but she couldn’t keep the present, not now that she knew where the money had come from. She would still feel sorry for herself on and off again for weeks, but even now that pity was being replaced with a fire that wouldn’t go out until it had cleansed all of Derry. It was time for them to learn the truth.

When they re-entered the clubhouse it was like everyone had been waiting for their arrival. A loose semi-circle had been formed, but now no one was moving or talking. They watched as Ben and Beverly sat down. 

The circle was complete.

“Let’s start from the top,” Beverly said when it looked like no one else was going to speak. “Why are you in Derry?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Because Robert has friends here.”

“Let’s go back further, why did you leave Chicago?”

Here the new boys looked at one another wondering who was going to speak.

“Georgie messed up,” Mike said so quietly everyone had to lean in to hear him.

“It w-wasn’t his fault,” Bill said. “Not really. I g-got pretty banged up after a fight. It was one of the w-worst fights of my life. Georgie got scared. He tried to c-call social services. Robert found out. He started m-making plans, and within the m-month we came here.”

Stan reached for Bill’s hand. The warmth was comforting.

“Did social services try to reach out before you left Chicago?” Beverly asked.

Bill shook his head. “Georgie didn’t get f-far enough into the call. Robert picked up the line and m-made it seem like some boys w-were pranking them. They never looked into it, but Robert d-didn’t feel safe anymore. He wanted to m-move us.”

“He picked Derry due to the connections he has,” Mike said. “I don’t think he would have picked such a small town if it weren’t for the shelter that Butch can offer him.”

“Okay, so how do we get you out?” Beverly asked.

The three boys in question looked at one another communicating with a sort of telepathy that was all their own.

“I don’t know that you can.” Mike said at last.

“We have to try. We can’t just let this keep happening now that we know about it.” Richie said.

“That’s nice, but Robert is too strong.” Eddie said.

“Maybe now, but we can beat him.” Richie’s tone was darker than Eddie had ever heard it before. If he didn’t know Richie he would be frightened.

“D-don’t be stupid, Richie. The violence is so d-deeply ingrained in this town that Robert has home court advantage, and he knows it.”

“Then what do you want us to do?” Stan asked.

“You should stay away from us, for your own g-good.”

“Not going to happen,” Richie said.

“Absolutely not,” Stan said at the same time.

“F-fuck, Stan. I d-don’t want to watch you g-get hurt any more,” Bill said.

“Bill, you don’t always need to be the hero. Let me fight for you just this once,” Stan said.

The group watched as a war played itself across Bill’s face. He longed to be the hero, the man to save them all from Robert. After all isn’t that what he loved about Hotspur? About Achilles? The rage and fire which drove them to stand up for what they believed was correct. Isn’t that what Bill longed for? How could he explain it to the others, that he had to do this for himself? That it was the only way he would regain some of his goodness.

“Bill, look at me. Please.”

Bill looked over at Stan. The fear was plain on his face, but there was a determination there too.

“Let us fight for you. I know that you want to do this alone, that you’re thinking about the literary heroes we’ve been reading about, but Hotspur and Achilles died because of their pride. They were alone on the field and thought they knew best, and it killed them.”

“Patroclus d-dies too.” Bill said.

Stan bit his lip before replying, “then I guess I won’t dress up in your clothes. Please, Bill. Let us help you.”

Bill looked to Mike and saw the same desperation on his face that was on Stan’s. Mike wanted Bill’s approval. He wanted the okay that would relieve him of the majority of the responsibility and guilt should anything happen. Bill knew that Mike wouldn’t ask the Losers for help if Bill said it wasn’t safe. Bill glanced to Eddie. His head was down, he wasn’t going to sway the decision one way or another. It was all on Bill.

Pride. That had been Achilles and Hotspur’s downfall. And what had Richie said in Epping’s class all those days ago? That Hotspur didn’t listen to Kate. He was stubborn. Bill saw those qualities in himself along with the desperation to be a hero. And as much as he hated it he knew that Stan was right. It wasn’t time for a lone hero, but for a fellowship – the very story he had been telling to Georgie since their parents died.

He looked around the circle, and he hoped that he was making the right decision.

“Okay.”

“Really?” Stan asked.

“Yeah, w-we’ll take all the help we can g-get.”

A sense of relief washed over the entire room.

“There’s no beating Robert at his own game. He’s been doing this for years. Nothing is ever going to stop him.” Eddie cut in.

“We will.” Beverly said motivated by Bill’s acceptance of their aid.

“Oh yeah? How’s that? You’re just a child. We all are. Kids don’t beat grown ups.”

“We have to try. Let’s start by getting a list of names of everyone who attends fight night,” Beverly said.

“We don’t know everyone there, but we can give you some names.” Mike said.

Eddie turned on Mike. “You’re in favor of this?”

“Well yeah, it’s our first real shot at anything. I thought you would be too, since you started this conversation.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut and looked away.

“It happens on Butch’s farm,” Mike started. “There’s your father, Mr. Keene, and Mr. Dunning.”

Beverly looked troubled. “Go on.”

“I don’t know for sure, but there have been some Hockstetters in the ring so I would guess their father is there too.”

Stan’s grip on Bill’s hand tightened.

“There was also a Corcoran boy, definitely not by his own will.”

“I bet it’s his stepfather, Macklin. Guy gives me the creeps,” Richie said.

“I saw Peter Gordon with Vic and Belch there too. They were taking bets,” Eddie said.

“How many people do you estimate make it out there?” Beverly asked.

“Eighty to one-twenty, but it could be more,” Mike said.

“Fuck.”

“You said this happens at Bowers’ farm?” Ben asked.

“Sure. Why?” Mike asked.

“There was some trouble out by the Bowers’ farm about a dozen years ago. I just wish I could remember what it was.”

“How do you know about that? You weren’t even here then,” Richie asked.

“Aunt Jean said something about it to my mom, but I wasn’t really paying attention.” Ben blushed a bit.

“Wouldn’t hurt to look into just in case,” Beverly said.

“Since so much of the town is involved, we probably shouldn’t risk talking about this anywhere but here,” Stan said.

“That’s a good point. Did you, um did you see any of our parents there besides my dad?” Beverly asked.

Mike shook his head. “Unless we would have heard their names we don’t know what your parents look like so I don’t know.”

Beverly nodded.

“To be safe we won’t bring it up around the grown ups until we can confirm,” Ben said.

Everyone nodded.

Eddie’s watch went off causing them all to jump.

“Game’s almost over. We need to go soon.”

The Losers looked reluctant to part, but if they were to stay below radar then Eddie was right. As a group they gathered their things and walked out of the clubhouse.

“You guys should swing by the field,” Richie said.

“It’s not on our way,” Eddie said.

“I know, but check the score if you can. We all know the Tigers lost, but you might need to know by how much.”

Mike and Bill nodded.

“And Eds?” Richie called out.

Eddie paused as Richie jogged to catch up with him.

“I’m sorry about what I said about _Street Fighter_. You’re right it’s not a joke I just think that’s how I cope sometimes. Making light of things.”

Eddie smiled and without thinking about it too much he leaned up on his toes and gave Richie a kiss on the cheek. He ran to where his friends were waiting trying to ignore the burst of pleasure that was flooding his body. He turned back once and marveled that maybe he had finally found a way to shut up Richie Tozier for good.

“What was that?” Mike asked as they walked towards Derry High.

Eddie shrugged a smile on his lips.

“W-why did you tell them all that stuff? They’re in d-danger now too.”

The happy endorphins were ebbing away and Eddie responded honestly. “I don’t know. Did I do the wrong thing?”

Bill looked old and tired as fear and worry returned in spades. “I w-wish I knew.”

–

Neibolt welcomed them back into its chilly embrace. The house smelled of cleaning supplies, but that did nothing to hide the rot that resided in the walls. Bill thought the place should be condemned.

Robert left his study upon hearing their arrival and met them in the entry hall.

“How was the game?”

“B-boring,” Bill said.

“Tigers lose?”

They nodded.

“How badly?” Robert asked.

“30-2,” Mike said.

Robert whistled. “That’s pretty terrible.”

“W-Where’s Georgie?”

“Poor tyke is taking a nap. I’m afraid I rather abused his high energy and wiped him out.”

Bill longed to run to his brother, but he knew better than to leave before being dismissed.

“You boys did well today. I am sure all that fresh air has left you tired, so you may go rest before dinner.”

The boys left.

Bill found Georgie curled up in his bed, his back to the door. He turned slowly when he heard the door open, tensing until he saw it was only his brother. He let out a sob.

Bill rushed to Georgie’s side and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Don’t leave me again. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Georgie?”

“Don’t leave me with him, Billy. Please.”

Bill lifted Georgie’s shirt and found fresh bruises forming along his stomach and ribs. A murderous rage descended on Bill, he had to fight to keep a level head. “What did he do?”

“I didn’t clean fast enough. He said I wasn’t good enough and that you would hate me, please, Billy.” Georgie broke down into sobs.

Bill carded his fingers through Georgie’s hair. “You’re good enough, Georgie. You don’t have to promise me anything. I won’t leave.”

Bill just hoped he would live long enough to keep his word. He was getting them out.

–

Outside of the clubhouse the rest of the Losers were formulating a plan. Richie could barely pay attention to the conversations at hand as he was still thinking about the kiss Eddie had given him. The boy had opened up a surprising amount, and Richie wondered if any of it was because of him. He didn’t want to flatter himself, but the Eddie he had met had been so closed off and emotionally constipated that this outburst of information seemed odd. Richie was determined to find out more. He would have to be careful so as not to set off any of the adults, but Richie thought he could swing it.

“It’s getting late, I should go,” Stan said.

“I’ll walk you, Stanabelle,” Richie said leaping up.

Stan smiled, “alright.”

They said their goodbyes and Stan and Richie walked into the cooling air of the early evening.

“So you and Eddie,” Stan said.

“Yeah.”

“There’s probably a lot going through his head right now. I doubt he’s even ready for a relationship. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”

“I know. You’re probably right, but I want to be the one when he’s ready.”

“Of course you do.”

“Aw don’t tell me you’re jealous, not when you were hanging off of Big Bill like a dewy eyed starlet,” Richie said in his stupid Trans-Atlantic accent.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were, m’dear. Doe-eyed innocence and all.”

“Beep beep.”

Richie laughed dropping the act.

“I just thought we’d always be each others favorites, even in college. I don’t want that to change.” Stan said.

“So you are jealous.”

“No –”

“Stan, you’re always going to be my favorite and I’m yours. We’re wombmates. Nobody can take that away from us.”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t know how to deal with so much changing.”

“That’s alright, Staniel, that’s what I’m here for.”

They stopped at the intersection where they would part ways.

“Be careful, Richie. I mean it.”

“I’m always careful.”

Stan rolled his eyes he began to head home. Richie turned and walked to the Tozier residence his plan unfolding in his head.

–

Stan entered his home and could smell dinner cooking. The strain of the day wore heavily upon him and all he wanted was some comfort.

“Mom?”

“In here, honey.”

He followed her voice into the kitchen. There his dad and mom were sitting at the table sipping wine as dinner cooked. Upon seeing his face, Andrea rose.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

Stan couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Andrea exchanged a look with Don before wrapping her son up in a warm embrace. The smell of dinner mixed with her perfume and the wine she had been drinking instantly soothed Stan. He didn’t know how Bill or the others could survive without such comforts. He knew he would give everything in order to get them for the others.

“Stanley, what’s happened?” Don asked.

Stan couldn’t speak, not yet.

His parents shared another worried look, the telepathy of years of cohabitation speaking volumes.

“Honey, you’re scaring us. You don’t need to tell me everything that’s bothering you, just let me know that you aren’t hurt.” His mom said.

“I’m okay.”

Relief washed over the Urises and the tension in the room began to ease up. Andrea let go of her son. “Why don’t you wash up for supper it will be ready momentarily.”

Stan nodded and left them.

“What was that about?” Andrea asked her husband.

“I wish I knew. He’ll come to us when he’s ready.”

Andrea smiled. She knew Don was right. Stan had always come to them no matter how terrible things had gotten, sometimes it took awhile, but he would come to them when he needed to. She just hoped her son wouldn’t put himself through too much anguish before he did.

–

Across town, Beverly arrived home. She was anxious not to run into her father, but of course that meant he was sitting in the front room waiting for her.

“How was the game?”

“Terrible. I have never understood football.”

Alvin Marsh chuckled. “I’d be happy to try and explain it again.”

Beverly rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not. Somehow you make it even more dull.”

“Fair enough. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Beverly nodded, she needed to get to her room and collect her thoughts. She started to go.

“Bevvie?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your locket, princess?”

Beverly forced an easy laugh, “I guess I must have left it at Ben’s before the game. I’ll get it back tomorrow.”

Alvin’s face clouded over, but he nodded. 

Beverly’s heart pounded as she left him It was better that he think she and Ben were having sex than that she had found out the truth. She prayed that she had done the right thing. And not for the first time Beverly wondered about her mother. While in the past she had always figured they were better off without her, now she thought that maybe it was her mother who had been right all along. Beverly missed the woman she could barely remember and hoped that she would be able to find her before it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support and love from last week's chapter. I appreciate you all more than you can know. I hope this chapter lived up to your excitement and expectations. Please let me know your thoughts below. (Next chapter will be upon us soon REDDIE or not...)  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	11. Chapter 11

That night after supper had been had and families had said their goodnights, Richie Tozier snuck out. Despite Stan’s beliefs that there were no secrets in the Tozier household, there were a couple things Richie hid from his parents. One of which being that he had learned how to sneak out of his bedroom window when he was twelve. It was an awkward affair, made more awkward the ganglier he grew, that involved quite a bit of contortion and a painful moment or so where he wondered if his balls were going to get caught, but he was decently good at it now. And tonight he was a man on a mission.

He had only ever hung out with Eddie while in a group, and after today’s kiss Richie was more than a little bit curious about him. All their talk about Judas was beginning to make more sense, but Richie wanted to hear it from Eddie, rather than just speculate and talk to himself in circles. So that’s where Richie was headed. Neibolt Street.

He didn’t dare take his mom’s car, although he would have liked the comforting distraction of driving, and instead walked to Neibolt. He tried to formulate a plan, seeing as he couldn’t just knock on the front door and ask to see Eddie, but for once his voices had nothing to offer.

Neibolt Street was creepy during the daytime, Richie pitied the kids who went to the Baptist school at the corner of it, but at nighttime it was downright terrifying. The one streetlight was broken and flickered on and off creating moving shadows amid the darkness. The road dead ended like the city planners had started it and upon seeing what they had created thought better than completing it. The house at the end, 29 Neibolt was always thought to be haunted. Richie had heard his parents talking and it was generally agreed upon that no one should live there. Everyone was surprised when they heard that a new family would be moving in.

Richie could see why Robert must like the place. The facade looked like a maw, ready to swallow all who entered. The crooked porch and sinking roof formed the jaw and mandible. The second story windows were like eyes blindly peering out onto the street. Everything was dark and quiet, but instead of soothing Richie the silence only set him off.

Against his better judgment, Richie stepped off the path and began walking around the house. The gloom was deeper here, fully consuming. The dry grass, dead from a scorching summer, rustled and tickled his legs.

In the back two rooms were lit. From here, Richie could tell that one was a little closet of a room, bare and cold. It’s occupant was moving around, and even from the awkward perspective Richie knew the man was too tall to be Eddie. Richie startled as he realized he was seeing Robert Gray pacing his room, no doubt planning something insidious. From here he didn’t look so terrible, just a man. Richie thought they could beat him.

The light went out in the room. Apparently, Mr. Gray had gone to bed. At least Richie knew which window not to disturb. Hopefully if he got any of the other boys he could sneak into their room and tiptoe across the hall to Eddie’s. That left him with one option. The room where the lights still glowed. 

“'What light through yonder window breaks,'” Richie said to himself. The line made him smile, probably the first smile 29 Neibolt Street had seen in years.

Searching around in the darkness, Richie found a handful of gravel. Selecting the largest pebble he pelted it at the window. He missed by quite a bit and hit the siding. He glanced over to Mr. Gray’s room, but there was no movement. He threw another rock. This one hit. Then another and finally the window opened.

“Fuck off!” Eddie hissed into the dark.

“I think you’re supposed to say ‘Romeo oh Romeo wherefore art thou Romeo?’”

“Richie?” The surprise was evident in his tone, but was quickly replaced by fear, “what are you doing here?”

“Wanted to see you.”

“You should leave, this isn’t safe.”

“Well instead of us stage-whispering like fools how about I sneak up there and we can talk like real people?”

“NO! Robert’s just in the next room, he’ll hear you.”

“Guess you’ll have to sneak out.”

“Are you kidding? I’ll break my neck!”

“Shh, Juliet. The good nurse will hear you.”

“Beep beep.”

“So are you coming down or what?”

Eddie glanced over his shoulder. He left the window and Richie had figured his luck had finally given out, until Eddie returned in a heavy sweater, fanny pack buckled around his waist. He crawled out the window, having a much better time of it than Richie ever had. Richie thought this mildly unfair seeing as this was Eddie’s first time breaking out, and even with his years of experience he still almost always half fell. He watched the other teen slide down the roof until he was close enough to climb into the neighboring tree. The thing was half dead, the bark stripped away in patches, creating convenient little foot holds. Eddie managed to get down without hurting himself and Richie was more than impressed.

“So where to, Romeo?” Eddie was slightly breathless from his endeavors and Richie couldn’t help but think it was adorable.

“Thought we could walk around Derry.”

“Seriously?”

“There’s not a lot of fun in small towns late at night. We could go out to the quarry, but that’s probably a little far for so late a night.”

“Whatever we do, let’s get away from Neibolt,” Eddie said glancing up at the monolithic house.

Richie could not agree more. He started off at a steady pace, but found that he needed to slow down due to Eddie’s short legs. Not that the other boy noticed, he was too busy looking over his shoulder.

“I gotta ask, Eds, what was today about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Yesterday you talk about Judas, and today you tell us everything and kiss me on the cheek? I’m not Jesus in this scenario right?”

“Only you could think you’re part divinity after everything I told you,” Eddie said, but there was no bite to his words.

Richie laughed. “Seriously though, what’s going through your head?”

“My head’s a mess.”

“So?”

“You don’t want –”

“Not with this crap again. I’m asking. I want to know.”

Eddie looked up at Richie. Really looked at him, and Richie felt that he was being judged somehow, measured against an unknown standard. Finally appeased Eddie spoke.

“It’s like this, I’ve known Robert my whole life. I don’t remember a life before him. When I was little I called him papa, and he was my whole world. I knew I had a mother, but I never cared about her. For me Robert was everything. Sure he was scary sometimes, but I still knew he loved me. Then Mike came along and everything changed.

Mike would cry for days on end. He wanted his Mama and his Papa and Mr. Chips, his dog. He wanted to see his friends, and his house. And I began to realize that my life with Robert wasn’t normal. It didn’t have the same warmth. I doubt Mike remembers much of before, and if he does he’s probably repressed it so it doesn’t hurt as much, but I remember the things he told me. About how his father would play with him or the songs his mother sang to him when he couldn’t sleep. He told me about his friends too. It was all so different than the way Robert brought me up. And then one day he just stopped talking about it. I don’t know why, but if I had to guess I think Robert did something to shut him up. After that he didn’t talk about the past, and I think he tried to forget.

Then when Bill and Georgie showed up I learned even more about what I was missing. I started to worry that maybe Robert has me twisted – that I’m going to end up like him. I’ve never been loved the way Mike and Bill and Georgie have been, what if I don’t know how to be loved like that? What if I can’t love like that?” Eddie gasped, drawing his inhaler out. He took his medication and the panic began to ebb away.

“Eds –”

“No. Don’t. It’s not just that. Every time I try to get closer to you and the others I feel like I am betraying Robert. I’m betraying the man who raised me. He trusts me, Richie, in a way he doesn’t trust the others. I’m special to him, and some sick part of me doesn’t want that to go away. He’s my father, and I’m betraying him. This walk is betraying him. But on top of that, I don’t want to be under his thumb the rest of my life. I don’t want to betray my friends anymore. Because every time I do something for him I’m hurting Bill and Mike and Georgie. Maybe not immediately, but definitely in the long run.

It’s like I’ve been so guarded my whole life that now I don’t know what’s an act of rebellion and what’s normal. I’m scared that I’m damaged. That I’m too much like him.”

“You’re not.”

“How do you know?” Eddie asked.

“Because Eddie you told us the truth. You did. Not Bill or Mike, it was you.”

“Yeah, but Bill –”

“Bill looks to you.”

Eddie snorted.

“He does. You’re like his barometer or some shit. He won’t do things unless he thinks you’re okay with it. So he must trust your judgment. You’re not like Robert and you aren’t betraying him. The things he’s done to all of you are – well there’s not really a strong enough word for it – but fighting back against him isn’t wrong or wicked. It’s good. You’re standing up for yourself, and right now that’s what you need to be doing.”

Eddie stopped walking and looked at Richie. “You really think so?”

“I know it, Eds.”

“Okay.” And Eddie tried to believe him.

“Can I ask you something?” Richie asked, beginning to walk again.

Eddie nodded.

“How did you know to call me Trashmouth?”

Eddie blushed. “A few weeks ago, Mike heard you tell Bev that you’d radio, and he went looking for the channel. We didn’t listen to your conversation, just your sign ons.”

Richie smiled. “Cute.”

“You’re not mad?”

Richie shook his head. “You didn’t eavesdrop on us or anything. And I mean if it were other people then it would be a little weird, but knowing what we know about you guys it kinda makes sense.”

Eddie nodded.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for telling me the truth. All of that stuff. I’m honored that you trust me with it.”

Eddie nodded, and as they passed under a streetlight Richie caught him blushing. After a beat, Eddie spoke again. “My turn.”

“What?”

“To ask you something, if that’s okay? It’s not as serious as what we’ve been discussing so –”

“That’s fine, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“What’s with you and Shakespeare? I mean you know a lot of quotes.”

Richie laughed. “Yeah, I guess I do. My dad is a Shakespeare scholar, got his masters in it and everything. Every summer for as long as I can remember he’s taken us out to Bangor to catch their Shakespeare festival. I’ve seen more Shakespeare than I can recount.”

“What did they do this summer?” Eddie asked.

Richie smiled. “Four shows. _Much Ado About Nothing_ , _Romeo and Juliet_ , _As You Like It_ , and _Julius Caesar_.”

“I wish I could have seen _Julius Caesar_.”

“You would have loved it. It was heartbreakingly beautiful. There was this palatable sexual tension between Brutus and Lucius, his manservant. They did the whole thing like modern politics, not in togas or anything, and it made it really relevant.” Richie flushed. “Sorry to ramble.”

Eddie smiled. He liked hearing Richie talk. “What are the other two about? Not _Romeo and Juliet_ but the _Much Ado_ and , _As You Like It_ ones.”

“You really want to know?” Richie asked.

"I'm asking," Eddie said, throwing Richie's words back at him.

So for the rest of their walk Richie recounted some of Shakespeare’s sweetest comedies. He spoke in an accent until Eddie elbowed him and told him not to. He did dramatic accounts of the sword fights, and in sweet falsetto spoke some of Beatrice and Rosalind’s most famous lines. Eddie felt as if he were seeing it all right in front of him. Richie’s stage was the pavement, his lights the stars and traffic lights signaling to nobody. And Eddie knew at last what it was like to be the center of Richie’s attention.

At long last sleep began to pull at their eyes, and they looped back towards Neibolt Street. With each step the good humor was replaced by dread. Eddie found himself wishing that the night could last forever, and that he could stay with Richie instead of returning to Neibolt.

“'Parting is such sweet sorrow,'” Richie said as they reached the gate that separated the house from the world of the living.

“What’s that from?” Eddie asked, sleep slowing his speech.

“R&J.”

“What comes next?”

“Eds –”

“Tell me.”

“You’re procrastinating. You need to go to bed.”

“Shhh tell me the rest of the line.”

“I don’t think you can make it up the tree in this state. You better go through the front door.”

Eddie shook his head. “He locks us in at night. Can’t. Have to go through window.”

“He locks you in?”

“Tell me the rest of the line. I know you know it.”

“'Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight until it be morrow.'”

Eddie smiled. “Thanks, Richie.”

“Are you sure you can make it up there okay?”

Eddie nodded. He may be tired, but his life depended on Robert unlocking the door tomorrow and finding him in his own bed. “Good night, Richie.”

“Night, Eds.”

Richie watched as Eddie was swallowed by the shadows of Neibolt House and hoped that the other boy had made it in alright. Richie’s own return home was nothing of note, his feet creating a sleepy rhythm as he walked across the pavement. By the time he fell into his bed his throat was raw from speaking so much, and his body felt like jello. He was exhausted, and yet he had enjoyed spending time with Eddie without the rest of the group. Eddie opened up one on one, he was less cagey, almost normal.

–

Monday after school, the boys returned to Neibolt House to find workers busily working on ladders. Robert stood in the front lawn overseeing the work, beside him stood Frank Dunning. A chill went up Bill’s spine.

“W-What’s going on?” He asked.

“I’m putting bars on all the windows.”

“Why?” Mike asked.

“It’s not a safe neighborhood. I’d hate for anyone to break in.”

Bill eyed the workers. They weren’t putting the bars on the first floor windows, they were on the second story. Their bedrooms were being turned into miniature cages. He felt sick to his stomach.

Eddie watched the work with a different kind of horror. Although Robert hadn’t said anything on Sunday he must have known that Eddie snuck out. That could be the only explanation for this project. Had Robert seen Richie hanging around the house? Did he check in on Eddie while he had been out and found the room empty? This was all his fault.

Eddie felt someone looking at him. He turned and saw that Robert had a nasty grin on his face. Robert had known what Eddie was thinking and the grin only confirmed his guilt. Eddie couldn’t help but wonder why Robert wasn’t saying anything, why he hadn’t beaten Eddie senseless on Sunday for sneaking out. He knew if it had been Bill or Mike they would have been physically punished for such an infraction. Again Eddie was reminded of how he was different in Robert’s eyes, and again he resented the preferential treatment he was given. All he could do was hope that the other Losers had actually come up with a decent plan before it was too late.

Robert watched Eddie. He didn’t know what had caused the other boy to sneak out, was it some longing for teenage rebellion? Some need to defy him? Robert didn’t care. This would stop Eddie, and the others for that matter, from even daring to sneak out. As for punishment, Robert wouldn’t lay a hand on Eddie. He was precious. Eddie was the fist one to make Robert realize the joys of fatherhood, of dominating young minds and molding them in his image. He would never lay a hand on Eddie because he had been a gift from Sonia, may she rest in peace. No instead he would tell Eddie that they needed to up his medication, give him something else to worry about. Another pill. Another reason to be dependent. That would be Eddie’s punishment. And the boy would probably take it like a reward. He would be relieved. Grateful Eddie would be buried in Robert’s kindnesses until the day he died. He would never sneak out again. Of this Robert was perfectly sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this chapter is a little shorter than usual, and there's actually several more shorter chapters to come. But this means I'm able to write and edit them more quickly, so be sure to subscribe as I may post more bonus chapters in the upcoming weeks!  
> Thank you for all your support so far. I love reading and replying to your comments!! Please tell me your thoughts on the Reddie advancemets or even the home "improvements" made in this chapter. I'm dying to know.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW
> 
> Next chapter involves some sleuthing, and the introduction of a new character! Guesses are welcome!


	12. Chapter 12

After school on Tuesday, Beverly and Ben went to the Derry Public Library for research. There had been no luck in finding out any information about what happened twelve years ago online. It was like Derry existed within its own bubble, impenetrable from the outside world. Even the Derry News’ digital archive didn’t extend that far back, so Ben said they should go check out the library’s backlog of local newspapers to find out more.

“Hi, Mrs. Starrett, we’re looking for newspapers from about twelve years ago. We’re doing a report on some local history,” Ben said going to the help desk.

Beverly couldn’t help but be impressed by how calmly Ben told the lie.

The librarian pursed her lips as she typed some things on her computer. “I’m afraid most of those papers have been moved.”

Beverly tried not to show her alarm. She couldn’t help but wonder if they had been moved in order to stop people from finding out what had happened out by Sheriff Bowers’ farm twelve years ago. She reprimanded herself. She was probably just paranoid.

“I see, why was that?” Ben continued on the conversation like their plan hadn’t been foiled before it had even started.

“We’ve had some flooding in our basements. Last spring was pretty bad, as I’m sure you two remember. Anything that wasn’t on microfiche was removed to be preserved elsewhere although they remain the library’s property.” Mrs. Starrett frowned at this like she disagreed on moving library property off the premises unless it was checked out. A moment later the frown cleared and she reached for a pad of paper. “However, we have some wonderful books on the history of Derry if you’re interested.”

Mrs. Starrett began copying the titles out on the notepaper.

“Just out of curiosity, where were the newspapers moved to?” Beverly asked.

“City Hall. I’m sure you could ask to access them, as they are technically still part of the library’s collection. However, you would need to file some special requests and it may take awhile,” Mrs. Starrett said.

“Thank you for your time,” Ben said, taking the slip of paper from her.

They moved away from the help desk to reevaluate their plan.

“All these books are too old. None of them would include the past twelve years, let alone the last fifty,” Ben said looking over the titles.

“We need to find a way to get into City Hall without alerting Sheriff Bowers,” Beverly said chewing on her lower lip. Her hand went to her throat, she usually played with her locket when she was nervous, but she dropped it remembering it was still in the Barrens somewhere.

“How do we do that?” Ben asked.

Beverly didn’t know. It was her first day on the job and she had already run into her first dead end. It wasn’t like she had thought this would be easy, but already it felt as if the town was conspiring to keep its secrets. She wasn’t even sure if the Bowers incident had anything to do with what was happening now, but they certainly didn’t have anywhere else to start. As she stood wondering what their next step was, a familiar figure approached them.

“Ms. Marsh, Mr. Hanscom, funny running into you here,” Jake Epping said with a cheerful smile. Although he wasn’t their English teacher, he taught Freshman English along with Junior Honors’ English, and had had them three years ago. Mr. Epping was the sort of teacher who never forgot a student, and always went out of his way to greet them when out in public. Despite their current situation, Ben couldn’t help but smile at the teacher.

“Hi, Mr. Epping,” Ben said.

“You seem deep in thought. Anything I can advise you on? Perhaps a new book to read? Library is full of them.” Epping waved his arm around with a grin.

“Thanks, but we’re just doing a little project on some recent town history and all the papers have been moved due to flooding. We’re just trying to figure out what to do next,” Ben said.

“A history project?” Epping asked, curiosity piqued.

“It’s for extra credit,” Beverly said praying Epping wouldn’t ask their history teacher about it. Derry High was small, and everyone knew everyone’s business.

“Where are the papers being kept?”

“City Hall.”

“Really?” His eyesbrows shot up, and if Beverly weren’t so frustrated she would have laughed. They looked like two particularly fuzzy caterpillars trying to escape.

“Why?” Ben asked.

“My wife spends a lot of time there for work. I can see if she can get you access,” Epping said.

“That would be amazing,” Beverly said.

“But we don’t want to inconvenience either of you,” Ben hurried to add.

Jake Epping smiled, and for a moment Beverly understood why all his students loved his classes. His passion for education and knowledge were contagious. “I’ll give her a call and see what strings she can pull. Then I’ll come let you know what I’ve found out.”

“Thank you. We really appreciate it,” Beverly said.

Jake nodded before leaving them to go outside and make a phone call.

“Do you think he knows?” Ben asked. “About the thing?”

“We need to find a name for the thing so we don’t sound so suspicious.” Beverly said distractedly, as she studied Epping’s receding form. She didn’t think he knew, but then again she hadn’t known anything about her father’s pastimes so she didn’t trust her judgment. “And I don’t know. I don’t want him to be involved, but who knows.”

“We can ask Bill if he’s seen him, right?”

“I guess, but it’s unlikely that Bill’s seen everyone who comes to the thing.”

A few minutes more and Mr. Epping was returning with that same bright smile on his face.

“You guys have some time now? Sadie, my wife, is at City Hall and she says she can take you to the basement if you’re available.”

“That’s great, thank you so much.”

“It’s ridiculous that they would keep our town records from you when you’re trying to learn,” Epping said it like it was one of the greatest indignities he could think of.

“I’m sure you and Mrs. Starrett could talk about that for hours,” Beverly laughed.

Epping looked a little chagrined.“I’ll text Sadie and let her know you’ll be over presently. She’ll meet you out front.”

They waved goodbye and left the library back into the cool autumn air. Hope had returned and Beverly couldn’t help but feel that finally there was something on their side.

It didn’t take long to get to City Hall as it was just a short walk from the library. Standing outside was a tall woman about Jake’s age. Her eyes brightened upon seeing the two teenagers.

“Sadie Epping. You must be Jake’s students.” Sadie said with a Southern drawl so different than the Yankee accent to which they were accustomed.

“Beverly Marsh.” Bev shook the woman’s hand.

“Ben Hanscom.”

“Is your mother Arlene Hanscom?”

“That’s her.”

“Such a nice woman. I see her at the grocery on Saturdays. Now let’s get you your papers.” She had the same smile as Jake, one which showed a passion for education. She led them up City Hall’s stairs, nodding to the security guard positioned at the front door. He seemed to have little interest in the coming and goings of the woman, and the children which followed her, but Beverly made special note of his looks and name tag. Richard Macklin. A chill ran down her spine. Beverly hurried to catch up to the others.

Sadie said hello to everyone she passed, before leading them to the basement. She had to duck her head so as not to hit it on the rafters, the steps creaking as they tread across them. Beverly wrinkled her nose. The place smelled of must and decay. 

“This is where they store the local papers?” Ben asked.

Sadie nodded. “Sure. Derry isn’t known for being progressive, it’s taken years to convince Harry Meadows to even put the Derry News online, let alone all of these past editions.”

She gestured to piles of cardboard boxes, some of which were seriously falling a part. There seemed to be no system on how they had been put down here. It was as if an intern had dragged them all over here from the library and had placed them down here to be forgotten. This point was further hammered home by the fact that one label read Oct-Dec 2001 and next to it read Mar 1980. Apparently there was little consistency in labeling and ordering of the archives. 

Once more Beverly felt a looming sense of dismay. These records must stretch back into the early fifties, it might take hours to find what they were looking for and City Hall closed promptly at 5. They couldn’t risk coming back here, not with the security guard. Also Beverly didn’t like wasting Sadie’s time. The feeling of something actively working against them returned.

“What papers were you looking for?” Sadie asked. If she was intimidated by the mess she showed no indication of it.

“Um, twelve years back. I’m not sure of the month.” Ben said.

Sadie nodded, and to their surprise she began to help them look.

“Um, Mrs. Epping, don’t you have work to do?” Beverly asked, watching the tall woman contort herself around boxes in order to check the labels of ones farther back.

Sadie turned, her elbow knocking a box from the pile, newspapers scattered everywhere. “Shit. Oh sorry! Please, call me Sadie. And um, honestly, helping you kids out is way more interesting than what I’m here for. I told my paralegal to take notes on the meeting and fill me in later.”

Ben looked up from where he had been picking up the fallen papers. “And what do you do for work?”

Sadie smiled. “I’m a district attorney.”

Beverly moved away to search more boxes. Having someone who knew the law might be helpful down the line. She still wasn’t sure what her plan was, but she hoped that eventually she would land on something.

In the semi-dark her foot kicked something causing her to stumble. Instinctively she put a hand out to help steady herself. Luckily she was by the wall, rather than setting off another avalanche of newspapers. As she steadied herself she found that the box she had tripped over was one of the ones they were looking for. It was labeled as Jan-March twelve years ago. She pulled it away from the others moving it to the little work table that was down here.

Ben saw her and came over to the table.

“I’ll start going through this if you can help Sadie find the other three boxes.” He said.

Beverly returned to the piles as Ben began to sort through the papers. He figured whatever he was looking for would be front page news, at least when it first happened. So he started by paging through the newspapers looking at the headlines. When there was no luck there, he began by going through them page by page. By the time he had gotten entirely through the third or fourth paper, Sadie brought forth another box. This one was from October through December. Deciding to keep checking headlines, as it was quicker and Ben was sure there must be some indication as Aunt Jean had made it sound serious, he began checking the box Sadie had brought him. There was nothing.

He shoved the papers aside, frustration mounting. He looked at the mess and wondered if he was just wasting time? Feeling rather childish about his outburst, and hoping neither of the women had seen, Ben set to tidying it up. However, as he was neatening the October papers in preparation to pick up where he had left off in January, a notice from the beginning of the month caught his eye.

_**INVESTIGATIONS OF ARSON CEASE; FIRE DECLARED ACCIDENT** _

_The investigation into the Hanlon Farm fire has been closed. The Derry Fire Department along with the Sheriff’s office have ruled the fire an accident, stating the cause to be a leak in the gas main._

_The fire, which occurred earlier this year on September 1st, resulted in the death of the Hanlon family: Will and Jessica; their son, Michael; and dog Mr. Chips. The family is interred in the Derry Cemetery._

The article was so small it would have been easy to miss, buried among the detritus of everyday Derry. Ben was furious.

“Bev?” Ben’s voice sounded strangled in his own ears.

“Hm?”

“We need to find September.”

Beverly and Sadie shared a look before diving back into the piles of boxes. Ben began to comb through the rest of October, but the fire was never mentioned again.

It was Sadie who found the box. She let out a triumphant sound, lifting the box over her head. Ben couldn’t help but worry that she would drop it, or trip, spilling all the information about the fire across the floor. But she didn’t.

Sadie brought the box to the table, and helped Ben clear away the first box and its papers before going through this one. He skipped over July and August completely, pulling out the paper from September 1st. The headline, emblazoned in black ink, made Ben’s heart sink.

_**FIRE ON HANLON FARM. NO SURVIVORS.** _

He forced himself to read the article below.

_At 3 am in the morning a fire occurred at the Hanlon farm on Pasture Road between Route 2 and Route 7. Sheriff Bowers, whose property neighbors the Hanlon’s, was the first to call the Fire Department. He said that he smelled smoke, and saw that the Hanlon’s barn was on fire. Upon the Fire Deptartment’s arrival, it was discovered that the house had caught fire as well. Sheriff Bowers was attempting to break into the house to rescue the Hanlons, but Fire Chief Williams advised against it, stating that the flames were too high, and it was unsafe for anyone to enter._

_The firemen were able to put out the house fire by 3:20 am. Upon entry of the house it was discovered that there were no survivors. Will and Jessica Hanlon were found in the basement, presumably trying to escape the smoke. Mike, their five year-old son, was in his bedroom. The family dog was nowhere to be found._

_An investigation has been launched by the Derry Sheriff’s office and Fire Department on the cause. There is also some cause for debate as to what will happen to the land. Hanlon left the land in trust to his son who would inherit it upon his 18th birthday. However, both Terry Rhulin and Sheriff Bowers have shown interest in the land in the past, offering to buy it from Hanlon at an exorbitant fee. For the time being the land will be looked after by Richard Halloran, Hanlon’s appointed trustee, until there is a ruling on the cause of the fire._

When Ben looked up he saw the horror in both Sadie and Beverly’s eyes.

“This is what you are writing a paper on?” Sadie asked.

“Yes,” Ben said.

Sadie sat down on the boxes. “Does your history teacher know?”

“Um, yeah.”

“God, I could use a smoke,” Sadie said, but she made no movement to get a cigarette. “You know there’s a lot of bad blood and rumors about that fire. It might be best if you let sleeping dogs lie.”

“What sort of rumors?” Beverly asked already copying the important details from the paper into her notebook.

Sadie shook her head.

“We won’t include them in the paper, we just want to know what happened.” Beverly closed her notes.

Sadie studied Beverly. “Why? It was an awful thing. Why would you kids want to know about it?”

“It’s a mystery, and I want to get to the bottom of it,” Beverly said.

Sadie’s hand shook as she ran it through her hair. “Christ, I shouldn’t be telling you kids this. But okay. There are a lot of rumors about the fire. Most people accept that it was an accident, but not everyone thinks it adds up.”

“You mean the fact that it occurred at 3 am?” Ben asked.

Sadie gave him a wan smile. “Precisely. What would the Hanlons have been cooking at 3 am if it really was a gas leak?”

Ben and Beverly shared a look.

“On top of that, don’t you think it’s strange that the Hanlons were in the basement, but their son was on the second floor? If I were a parent and there was a fire, I wouldn’t leave my kid alone for one instant,” the conviction in Sadie’s voice was frighting. “Not to mention that both Sheriff Bowers and Terry Rhulin had previous interest in the land. The investigation cleared them both of course, but –”

“Was Sheriff Bowers the lead investigator?” Beverly asked.

Sadie looked surprised at the interruption. “No he recused himself, Deputy Borton led the investigation.”

“But what was he doing up at 3 am? How did he get there before the fire department?” Beverly didn’t seem to realize that she was speaking aloud.

Sadie sighed. “A lot of people have asked those questions, but he didn’t set the fire.” 

“How do you know?” Beverly asked.

“Well I guess I don’t for sure. I don’t think anyone will know for sure, but he was cleared.”

“Do you believe he is innocent?”

Sadie frowned. “This isn’t for a school report, is it.”

Beverly looked at Ben. He shrugged. She looked back to Sadie. “No.”

“I don’t know what you kids are thinking you’re trying to uncover, but this happened a long time ago. A lot of people were upset by it, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to stir up that sort of resentment again. Especially not in Derry where grudges run deep.”

“Sadie as a DA do you work much with Sheriff Bowers?” Ben asked.

“A little.”

“And what’s your opinion of him?”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“Alright, can I ask one more question?” Beverly asked.

“Sure, kid,” Sadie sighed.

“Whatever happened to the land? Who owns it now?”

A weary smile returned to Sadie’s face, like despite her warnings she was still amused by their curiosity. “It’s still in trust. Dick Halloran owns it.”

“So Bowers and Rhulin never got it?”

“No they never got it. Every once and awhile they bring it up in town meetings, but Dick won’t let them have it.”

“Do you know Mr. Halloran?” Beverly asked.

Sadie smiled. “Sure do. I make it my business to befriend the out-of-towners. Dick, Arlene, we newcomers gotta look out for one another. He lives in Florida these days, was out in Colorado for a bit, but every once in awhile he comes to town. Usually in September to pay his respects.”

Beverly and Ben shared a look.

“Thank you for your time,” Ben said putting the papers away.

Sadie sighed. “Sure. I really do think you should let it alone.”

“We’ll try,” Beverly said, but both she and Sadie knew it was a lie.

Sadie walked them back upstairs flicking off the light behind them. She led them to the front door waving to them as they left.

The sun felt different after all they had read. Without needing to confirm it, both teens began walking to the clubhouse. It was getting late, but there was a lot they needed to discuss.

Once in the privacy of the Barrens, Beverly pulled out her notebook.

“Do you think they were really Mike’s parents?” Beverly asked. There hadn’t been any pictures of the family in the papers they had seen, but Beverly wanted to believe that it hadn’t been them.

“It’s them.”

“How do you know?” Beverly asked.

“It lines up too perfectly. And the connection with Bowers? It was them, Bev.”

“Fuck.”

“I know.”

“Okay, so how did Mike get out? The article said that three bodies were found,” Beverly said.

“I don’t know.” Ben looked troubled.

“And what about this Dick Halloran? Do you think he could still be in town?”

“It’s possible,” Ben said.

“I think we should try and track him down.”

“Really?”

“He might know more than us,” Beverly said.

“Alright, but that doesn’t help us get them away from Robert.”

“I know. If only we could find a way to prove that Robert was involved with the fire,” Beverly said.

“I doubt he was. If anything I would put my money on Bowers.”

“I know, it’s just he’s untouchable.”

“No he isn’t. We’re going to get him, Bev. We are.”

Beverly looked at Ben and wondered how she had ever gotten so lucky. She wiped away the tears that she hadn’t even notice forming in her eyes. “Okay, you’re right. Head in the game, Marsh.”

“I’ll start looking into Halloran tonight,” Ben offered.

“Okay good. I don’t think we should tell the others what we’ve discovered. I don’t want to get their hopes up.”

Ben looked conflicted, but ultimately he nodded. “Do you think Sadie is going to tell on us?”

Beverly considered the question for a moment. “No I don’t think so.”

“How come?”

“She’s like us.” And Beverly knew in her heart that she was right. Sadie was curious and wanted justice. She had told them all those rumors because she had seen herself in Beverly. Beverly knew it, because she saw herself in Sadie. Sadie was everything she wanted to be when she was older: in a loving and committed relationship which allowed her to explore her own passions. She was brave, and powerful, but more than that she was kind. Sadie was concerned about what they were digging into, not because it would disrupt the town, but because it could be dangerous to them. It was this sense of danger that told Beverly that she was on the right track.

Ben seemed to understand her as he didn’t ask again.

It was almost supper time, so the two of them parted ways promising to keep one another updated if they found anything. Although Beverly was anxious to learn more about the Hanlon farm fire, she had another mission. She hadn’t told Ben about this one, as she didn’t want him to worry, but Beverly was on a crusade to find her mother.

–

Before dinner, Beverly went into her mother’s old sewing room. Al hadn’t touched the room, insisting that it was too much effort, and slowly boxes began piling up in it. Beverly had never really questioned her father’s authority before. Alvin said his wife abandoned them when Beverly was a toddler, and Beverly had believed him. But now, Beverly saw that her father wasn’t perfect. She wondered if his thirst for violence had ever extended to her mother. She wondered if her mother had had her own reasons for leaving, and although she was angry at this mystery woman – angry for abandoning her with a possibly abusive father, angry at giving up on her, not choosing to take her with, not loving her enough – she recognized that there might be more to the story. So here she was, standing in the dusty twilight, in a room which hadn’t been used for over a decade.

Beverly brushed past the boxes of things she had outgrown, broken tools, and old books to the back corner where an old dress form sat collecting cobwebs. In a basket on the floor she found half finished dresses that were clearly intended for her when she was two or three. The lace had been hand sewn on in careful even stitches. Faded pink ribbon was carefully threaded through the collar. It broke Beverly’s heart to think of the dresses as abandoned and unfinished. Next she examined the drawers of the desk which the sewing machine sat upon anxious to find something before her father returned.

Mostly she found half-wound bobbins, needles, pins, and a pair of scissors. But buried within a fixins box was a small leather bound journal. Beverly tucked it into her dress pocket to examine in the safety of her own room.

Before she turned to go, Beverly found a photograph tucked behind a bolt of cloth. The frame was dusty, and the glass was chipped in places, but Beverly could clearly see it was a photograph of her mother and her when she was a baby. She stood spellbound. She had never seen a picture of her mother, couldn’t remember her, but here she was in a simple cotton sundress smiling for the camera.

Elfrida had the same chin and eyes as her daughter, the same cascade of fiery red hair fell down her back. But in some ways she was softer than Beverly. There was a roundness to her limbs and face. Her smile was a tender thing tugging at the corner of full lips. The warmth in her eyes glowed softly as she looked at the plump baby swaddled in her arms. Elfrida could never look dangerous or intimidating, she was all soft round lines, and warmth. Beverly’s fire had been something she had inherited from Alvin.

Beverly gazed at the photo, anger and sadness and longing pooling in her gut, before deciding to take it too. She slid it out from behind the splintered glass and slipped it into her other pocket. She promised herself that she would find her mother, that she would forgive her for leaving. She didn’t like the hatred that boiled inside of her. It reminded her too much of her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for all the support you have given me. It truly means the world.  
> As the mysteries deepen be sure to leave comments with your predictions! I love hearing your thoughts. (Also there were several interesting cameos in this chapter. How many do you recognize?)  
> Next time on BNCC: some pre-fight night wholesomeness. The cage will be back soon.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	13. Chapter 13

Ever since Monday after school, Eddie had been uncharacteristically quiet. He had had trouble meeting Bill and Mike’s gaze that night. He hadn’t told them about sneaking out, he liked thinking it was his and Richie’s secret, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. After all the bars were his fault, and were just another reminder of how far Robert’s knowledge and power influenced their lives. It was his selfishness that had caused the constant reminder of the cage on their windows, and he hated himself for indulging his weakness in following Richie that night. He should have never done it. He stayed quiet in school, only Richie picked up on his discomfort, but because they were always in a group he never had a chance to ask Eddie about it. Mike and Bill had stopped trying to ask him what was wrong by Wednesday. It was clear that they were trying to respect his space, but that didn’t stop Georgie from finding him in his room after dinner.

“What do you want, Mike?” Eddie snapped.

He felt guilty as soon as he turned to find the younger Denbrough standing there. Georgie shifted his weight uncomfortably toying with something in his hands. Eddie recognized it immediately as wrappings.

“Um I was wondering if you could teach me? You promised.”

Eddie closed his eyes. Despite all the good that had occurred in the past week, nothing could stop Friday from coming. There was another fight, and despite Beverly’s belief that they would bring an end to it all, there was no stopping the passage of time.

“Sure, Georgie. Bring Mike back in here and I’ll help you.” Eddie said. The younger boy disappeared to go get Mike. 

When the two of them returned, Eddie moved to his bed. Mike and Georgie entered, closing the door behind them.

Eddie sat down and gestured for Georgie to do the same. “Can I have your right hand, Mike?”

Mike offered it, palm down.

“You’re going to start by hooking the wrapping around his thumb. You want to go away from the thumb so that it doesn’t slip as he’s fighting. Then you wrap it around his wrist, like this,” Eddie demonstrated as he spoke. “Three times. Next you’re going to wrap it three times around the hand.”

Eddie unwound the wrapping and passed it to Georgie. “Try it, before we go on.”

Georgie did so. Once he was finished Eddie examined Mike’s hand. “How does it feel?”

“Hard to say since the wrap isn’t done, but I think it could probably be tighter.”

Eddie unwound Georgie’s work, “try again.”

Georgie re-wrapped Mike’s hand, thrice around the wrist, thrice around the palm. Again Eddie inspected it and looked pleased. “Better. Next you’re going to go around to the back of the thumb, like so, and create three Xs by going through the fingers. The first one goes between the pinky and ring finger and back between the pointer and thumb, that’s your first X. Second X goes between the ring and middle finger, your final X between right and index ending at the back of the thumb. You wrap the thumb next. Flip the hand and wrap the thumb again crossing the palm instead of going all the way around. This locks the wrap into place. Then three times around the knuckles. Secure the excess, and velcro around the wrist. Got it?”

Georgie nodded.

Eddie undid the wrapping. “Do it from the start.”

Georgie’s movements were clumsy and slow, but as Eddie watched he knew that Georgie had been paying attention. When he finished he asked, “how’s that?”

Mike made a fist, “bit tight, Georgie. Think I might lose circulation.”

Georgie hastily undid the wrappings and did it again. Mike smiled when he had finished. “Better.”

“Try his left hand,” Eddie said, pulling another wrap from his dresser drawer.

Georgie started and re-started the left hand. He was clearly having more difficulty with it, but after a few times he was able to manage.

“Good job, Georgie.” Mike said once both his hands had been wrapped.

“Do you think I can do, Bill’s for Friday?”

Mike looked at Eddie who shrugged.

“Sure, Georgie. Keep on practicing and you’ll be perfect by then.” Mike said.

“Can I borrow these?” Georgie asked Eddie.

“Sure.”

Mike took the wrappings off and passed them to Georgie.

“Before you go, I have a favor to ask you,” Eddie said.

Both Mike and Georgie looked at him curiously. It was the first time he had actively asked for anything since his funk had started on Monday.

“This Friday can you ask Robert to wrap both Bill and Mike’s hands?”

Georgie paled at the mention of Robert. “Why?”

Eddie couldn’t tell Georgie about the Losers’ plan, not in Neibolt House where the walls seemed to have ears. He couldn’t tell him that Beverly had asked for a list, and Eddie was the only one who would be able to find out anyone’s name before the fight as he would be the only one allowed to mingle.

“Please, Georgie. It’s important.”

Georgie looked over his shoulder as if sensing that he was being watched. He nodded before hurrying to his room to practice wrapping his hands.

“You really think that’s smart?” Mike asked.

“We don’t have another choice. Do you think he can manage?”

Mike looked thoughtful. “I think you taught him well. We’ll be alright.”

“I hope so.” Eddie said.

–

Friday morning and all the Losers were tense. There was no helping it.

“I haven’t thought of any way to help our friends out,” Beverly said during the pre-homeroom chatter. The admission cost her more than she let on.

“I think maybe we need to ask for some adult’s advice,” Stan said.

“I don’t think that’s a good ieda. We don’t know who is involved,” Ben said. He lowered his voice, “what if we accidentally tip off the wrong sort of people?”

“Okay is there anyone we can absolutely rule out?” Richie asked.

“My parents,” Stan said. “Friday night is the start of Shabbat. My mom and dad never go out and are in bed before I am.”

Richie whistled. “Jeez, Stan how early do your parents go to bed.”

Stan punched him in the shoulder. “Not the point, dumbass.”

“Okay, so it’s unlikely that your parents are involved,” Beverly said. “Have you found out anymore about our Floridian friend?”

Ben shook his head. Between school and chores for his mom he hadn’t been able to go over to the Derry Townhouse to see if a Mr. Halloran was still there.

“Floridian friend?” Richie asked.

“Later,” Bev said. “What about your mom, Ben? I don’t think she’d really have a taste for that sort of thing.”

“Mom and Aunt Jean aren’t really night owls. I haven’t seen them go out anywhere ever. But I still –”

“Richie?” Beverly asked.

“Except for the occasional Shabbat dinner at the Urises my parents don’t have any standing Friday night plans. I think I would know if they sneaked out every Friday night,” Richie said.

“Maybe we should wait to see what Eddie can find out tonight,” Ben said.

“We can’t expect him to find out everyone who is there. Please sir, can I get your first and last name? Why because I’m selling popcorn for the boy scouts. No one would believe that shit,” Richie said.

“No one would believe w-what?” Bill asked joining the group.

Richie jumped in his skin. “Jeez, Big Bill, give a guy some warning next time. I was saying that no one would believe Eddie was a boy scout.”

“Why the fuck not?” Eddie asked.

“That dear Eddie Spaghetti is exactly why, language,” Richie said poking him in the ribs.

Eddie pouted. “Beep, beep.”

“What were you guys talking about?” Mike asked.

“Getting some advice on our issue,” Beverly said. “We’re trying to decide if we should address the parents, mine not included.”

The Neibolt Losers looked at one another.

“I know you want to t-trust your parents, b-but this whole town is –” Bill shrugged as if there wasn’t a word which encompassed the depth of their troubles.

“Thank you! I’ve been trying to convince them of that,” Ben said.

“Alright, but what other choice do we have? Eddie was right, we are kids and this isn’t a kids’ problem. It’s a grown up one and that demands grown ups,” Stan said.

“I don’t like to admit it, but Stan’s right. We don’t have any other choice.” Beverly said.

“No,” Bill said.

“Bill –”

“W-we agreed that you could t-try and help us, not your parents. We can’t risk it. I’m sorry.”

The bell rang signaling an end to the conversation.

–

The rest of the day was rough for all the Losers. The thing which they all wanted to talk most about was forbidden to them. Any semblance of conversation died as heavier things weighed on the consciousnesses.

For Stan the hardest part was not being able to be there for Bill. He wished more than anything that he could rescue the other boy from his plight. He understood the Neibolt Losers’ caution, but he couldn’t stand the feeling of loneliness and helplessness of the situation. There had to be something he could do.

For Georgie there was nothing so torturous as Fridays. He hated that the middle school was so far away from the high school. He wanted nothing more than to spend all day with Bill doing things they had done before their parents’ death since there was no guarantee how quickly Bill was going to heal and be out of bed again after tonight.

Today there was an added anxiety which frayed at Georgie’s nerves. Tonight he would be responsible for whatever injuries Bill and Mike’s hands sustained, if he could convince Robert. And that was a big if. Georgie was terrified to ask Robert for the favor. Probably more terrified about that than about the responsibility of wrapping Bill and Mike’s hands. And he had good reason to be.

Something had changed in the older man since Chicago. He looked at Georgie differently. Georgie couldn’t quantify what had changed, but there was something charged between them. He hated being alone with Robert; last Friday had been a nightmare. There were still the faintest traces of the bruises on his stomach, and that hadn’t even been the worst part. The worst part was the things Robert told him, the way he watched him. Georgie shivered in his history class. Even here it felt like Robert was watching him.

Although Georgie longed to see Bill he dreaded returning to Neibolt House. But time seemed to be racing despite his best efforts, the future was inescapable.

–

That night before they left Neibolt House, Georgie approached Robert’s office. The pit in his stomach had deepened becoming a black hole of worry and fear. Part of him worried he might throw up before he could get the words out. His hands were slick with sweat, his mouth was dry. Everything was backwards, he thought. The voice sounded strangely like his father’s. There was some comfort in that.

Georgie knocked softly at the door.

“Come in,” Robert called.

Georgie entered, a chill ran up his spine. His mom used to say that someone had walked over her grave when that happened.

Robert smiled upon seeing who it was. “What can I do for you tonight, Georgie?”

“I was wondering if I could wrap Bill and Mike’s hands tonight? Eddie taught me, and I’d really like a chance to prove myself,” Georgie said.

Robert looked thoughtful. “Do you think you can? Because you know if you do it wrong it will be your fault if Bill and Mike get hurt tonight.”

Although Georgie was aware of the responsibility, Robert’s wording made him hesitate. “I know.”

“It’s an awful lot for a ten year old to manage,” Robert crooned. “Perhaps its better left to the older boys.”

“Please. I want to do it.” Georgie hated begging in front of Robert, but he knew that Eddie wouldn’t have asked him if it wasn’t important.

Robert’s face took on an appearance which Georgie couldn’t describe, only that it frightened him terribly. The closest word he could find for it was hunger. “Alright, Georgie. Since you asked so nicely.”

It took everything in Georgie not to run away. He smiled, thanked Robert, and walked out of his office. It was only when he made it to the stairs that he let his legs give way. He sat down on the hard wood, and began to cry for his mother. Zack and Sharon Denbrough hadn’t been perfect parents, but they had been better than this. He had known they loved him, that’s why they – no he couldn’t let his mind go there. It hurt too much. Instead he thought about the sunny house they had had in Brooklyn. The way the floorboards would creak as he and Bill ran across them, not a scary sound but a happy one. One full of life. He thought about his father’s workshop, his mother at the piano. She had tried to teach him, but his fingers had been too fat. 

“When you’re older,” she had promised. “You’re going to be a great musician Georgie. I can see it in your soul.”

Georgie wept silently for as long as he dared. When the tears wouldn’t come any longer he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his sweater, stood up and went to find Eddie to get the wrappings.

–

Stan looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was only 8pm, the fight was nowhere near beginning, but if he was going to do this he needed to do it now before he lost his courage. He couldn’t help but feel like part of him was betraying Bill, but he needed to do something. They weren’t going to be enough. He knew that now. What they needed was a plan. A proper one.

Stan picked up his radio. “Birdboy to the Losers.”

“Birdboy, this is Trashmouth over.”

“Get your parents here now.”

“But what about –”

“He isn’t right about this. They need help, all that we can give them. And if your parents are home that means they aren’t involved, right?” Stan prayed that the gathering had already begun. He prayed that he was right about this.

“Copy, Birdboy. Over and out!”

“New Kid reporting for duty.”

“Did you catch the message?”

“Yes.” There was some hesitation in Ben’s voice.

“Will you bring your mom?”

A pause.

“I’ll do my best. I just… I really hope you have a plan.”

“I do.” Stan lied.

“We’ll be over presently.”

“Embers?” Stan asked feeling rather stupid speaking to the void. “Birdboy to Embers. Over.”

–

Beverly was on her bed reading her mom’s diary when her radio squawked. Annoyed at the interruption she turned it down. With her dad out of the house for a guaranteed amount of time she finally felt safe to read about her mother. The radio squawked again, a few words coming through this time.

“… and if your parents are home… not involved.” That was Stan’s voice.

The white noise took over again, and then through it came Ben’s voice.

“… I … hope you have a plan.”

“I do.”

The white noise silenced them. Beverly set down the journal.

“Embers? Birdboy… Over.”

She picked up the radio, adjusted the frequency and said, “Embers to Birdboy, over.”

“Can you come over?”

She looked at the worn leather, the hopeful writings of her mother newlywed and just pregnant, and closed her eyes. The hatred for the mystery woman had softened and been replaced with a nostalgia for a life Beverly had never known. She longed for her mother to be here, for her to take her over to the Urises’ and explain everything that was going wrong. She wanted to ask for her help and advice. This problem was too big for them, she could see that now, and it scared her. She had wanted to be some sort of Nancy Drew, to be able to waltz in and fix everything. But it was hard, and scary. Derry was working against them and she didn’t know what was right anymore. Stan thought he knew, he thought getting the grown ups involved was the right thing. But what if it wasn’t?

Beverly thought of her mother, the mystery woman who had been so excited to be having a daughter, who had written all about what she planned to do with her new family once Bev was born, the woman who disappeared, what would she do in this situation?

Beverly realized she didn’t know. She would never know until she came face to face with Elfrida. Beverly wondered what Sadie would do? Brave Sadie. Kind Sadie. And she had her answer.

“I’ll be there. Over.”

Beverly grabbed a bag, threw the journal in it, and put on her shoes. She hoped that her mother would be proud of her, wherever she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating a day early as I am going away tomorrow, but I'm sure none of you have any complaints on that front lol.  
> Thank you as always for the continued support on this fic. I love seeing you find connections and do your own sleuthing. Your theories are fascinating to me!! So please do not hesitate to tell me all about what you think is coming.  
> Also I am so so excited to share this next chapter! It's another short one, but it's pivotal. Truly one of my favs that I've written so far.  
> Also also, as a lot of you have picked up I am taking other characters from SK novels to populate this world. BRAVO! But I am careful to pick only those who have ties to Derry, Maine. It's a lot of fun making these connections, and I hope you enjoy them too. If you're a fan of his written works I cannot express enough just how much I love 11/22/63 -- the world where Sadie and Jake (and Dunning) come from -- it is currently my favorite work of his.  
> Until next week, lovelies.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	14. Chapter 14

As soon as Bill and Mike arrived at Bowers’ farm they were led away by Dunning once more. To Bill’s dismay it wasn’t Eddie that followed them, but Georgie. He looked to Mike for some sort of answer, but the other boy remained stoic. Anger roared around his ears, and for a moment he was sure that he hated Eddie and Mike. It was replaced almost instantly. God, it was so fucked. He wished – he didn’t even know what he wished any more.

“Shirts,” Dunning said, once they had reached the post.

Bill stripped, angry that his brother had to witness him in such a vulnerable state. He threw his shirt at Dunning.

“Well aren’t you pissy tonight. Should make for a good fight.” Dunning sneered grabbing a hold of Bill’s jaw.

He shoved the boy back before handcuffing him to the post.

“Do you know who we’re fighting?” Mike asked trying to deflect Dunning.

The older man’s smile twisted, his teeth looking particularly sharp. “Sure do, coon boy.”

Mike grimaced at the slur.

“But don’t think I’ll tell you. More fun that way. Now get to it,” Dunning said grabbing Georgie’s arm.

“D-don’t touch him,” Bill lunged forward, the handcuff tugging painfully at his wrist, the sound of metal sharp in the quiet evening.

Dunning laughed. “Nothing you can do to stop me.”

Georgie was pushed towards Mike. He began to wrap Mike’s hands just as he practiced. He counted in his head, too worried to think about anything else much less prayers.

Dunning hadn’t stopped talking as Georgie worked. “How do you boys like the bars? They’re nice right? Robert said that he had some trouble with the poor neighborhood, he was worried about you boys. Came to my company first thing on Monday morning, course I gave him a discount on the work. How do you feel? Safer I bet.”

Dunning laughed. “Ya know I got kids your age. Troy, Arthur, Harry and Ellen. Course that bitch of an ex-wife doesn’t let me see ‘em. So seeing you kids is like seeing my own. You boys go to the high school with Artie don’t you?”

“T-tugga.”

“Right, that ridiculous nickname. And what about you Georgie? You know Harry and Ellen? They’re in the middle school too.”

Georgie didn’t reply as he finished with Mike’s hands.

“Troy and Arthur should be here. If it weren’t for their goddamn bitch mother.”

Bill tried to ignore Dunning. The man seemed more drunk than usual, there was a fevered pitch to his speech, a bright color in his cheeks. He watched as his brother began to wrap his hands. Bill mused that Georgie shouldn’t be this good at it. Eddie should have never taught him. God, he had to get Georgie out before Robert decided to put him in the ring. He hoped that the Losers had a plan.

–

Stanley looked around his living room vaguely pleased with himself, and absolutely intimidated. His parents were playing host and hostess, hiding their curiosity until they had made sure everyone had drinks, but Stan knew they were wondering why his friends’ parents were all here so late at night.

His friends and their parents hid their curiosity more poorly. Only Richie looked truly at home, Maggie Tozier was the next most relaxed as she offered to help Andrea bring out glasses for everyone. Arlene Hanscom was the most puzzled, still in her scrubs from her shift at the hospital. She sat at the edge of her seat, hand resting on Ben’s knee as if she needed something to anchor herself to in this strange reality.

Once the drinks had been settled, and Andrea and Don had sat down, everyone’s eyes turned to Stan. They were seated on the couches and armchairs, he stood before them at the center of the room.

“Not that I mind seeing your friends, and their parents, but what is the reason for this impromptu shindig?” Don asked.

“Ben said it was some sort of emergency?” Arlene said.

The other parents looked to her with varying expressions of surprise.

“Honey, what’s going on?” Andrea turned back to her son.

Stan shifted his weight where he stood. He looked to Richie for support. The other boy gave him an exaggerated thumbs up, Stan supposed that was the best he could expect from Richie.

“There’s a problem, in Derry,” Stan begun.

The mood shifted in the room. A quiet tension had fallen. No one moved to touch their drinks.

“We discovered it when we befriended the new kids who moved into the abandoned house on Neibolt Street. In talking to them we discovered that there is an underground fighting ring in Derry.” Stan’s voice broke. He hated how nervous he sounded.

Wentworth and Don both frowned.

Arlene’s grip on Ben tightened.

Maggie and Andrea shared a look.

“Honey –”

“It’s true, Mrs. Uris,” Richie said. Stan shot a grateful look to him.

Wentworth turned to his son. “We don’t doubt you, but what proof do you have?”

The kids all shook their heads.

“Ben?” Arlene asked. “You know about this?”

“Yeah, mom. There’s a lot more.”

“Wait, hold on,” Maggie said. “How big is this?”

“It’s pretty big,” Beverly said.

Everyone turned to her, and for the first time they realized she was the only one without a parent present.

“My dad goes to these fights. They happen almost every Friday night at Sheriff Bower’s farm,” Beverly said.

The adults all shared an uneasy look. It was clear that none of them were huge fans Derry’s Sheriff.

“We don’t know everyone else who attends, but Eddie is going to try and find out more tonight,” Richie said.

“So far we know that Norbert Keene, Frank Dunning, Richard Macklin, Ronnie Hockstetter, Vic Criss, Reginald Huggins, and Peter Gordon all attend,” Ben said.

Wentworth let out a whistle. “That’s quite the roster.”

“Dunning, is that Doris’ ex?” Maggie asked.

Andrea nodded. “He owns the housing repair business off of Kossuth.”

Maggie nodded.

“Our friends, they’re forced to fight,” Stan said trying to get the conversation back on track. “Their adoptive father has dragged them all across the country to enter them into these matches.”

Stan wasn’t sure what the reaction would be, but all the parents looked at one another and he realized they were afraid. This, children in pain, was their greatest fear realized.

“We’re not sure that Mr. Gray is legally their guardian,” Ben said.

Richie and Stan looked at him curiously. Beverly nodded.

“We did some research and we think Mike Hanlon, one of Mr. Gray’s adoptees is actually the Mike Hanlon who was reported dead twelve years ago.” Ben said pulling a notebook out of his backpack.

“The Hanlon Farm fire,” Wentworth asked.

Ben nodded.

“Christ, I remember reading about that. It was a tragedy for sure, but why do you think it’s connected?”

“The Hanlon farm borders Sheriff Bowers’. He was the first one on the scene too, and he’s the reason Mr. Gray is here. They’re friends. We think that somehow Mike survived, and maybe Sheriff Bowers didn’t want a dispute about the land so he passed the child off to Robert. Probably helped forge the paperwork so it seemed legal.” Ben said.

“Why didn’t you guys tell us that?” Richie asked.

“We don’t want to get Mike’s hopes up,” Beverly said. “We were going to keep it between us for now. There’s no proof that it is Mike’s family. There weren’t even photographs.”

“What did the papers say exactly?” Stan asked.

“Mr and Mrs. Hanlon were found in the basement. Mike was in his room, and the family dog was missing.”

Richie jerked his head up. “Dog?”

“Yeah, Mr. Chips,” Ben said.

“It’s him.”

“How do you know?” Maggie asked.

“I sunck out to talk to Eddie the other night.” Richie ignored the look Stan gave him. “He told me all about when Mike first showed up. Mike used to talk about his parents, and his dog. Mr. Chips. Has to be the same, right?”

“Christ.” Beverly said. While she had been pretty sure the Hanlon family had been Mike’s, it was entirely different to know that she was right.

“I remember Will and Jessica. They were sweet.” Andrea said.

Maggie grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly, before turning to Richie. “We’ll discuss your sneaking out another time.”

Richie ducked his head.

“There’s another boy who fights, Bill Denbrough. Eddie and Georgie, Bill’s younger brother, don’t fight,” Stan said.

“Oh my god,” Arlene said.

“We want to get them out,” Stan continued. “We just don’t know what to do.”

Andrea held out her other hand to Stan. He took it. She pulled him into a hug, and only then did his nerves begin to settle.

“Oh honey, thank you for telling us. You kids are very brave, but you don’t have to handle this by yourselves. You’re not alone. We’re going to help you.”

Stan let out a sob of relief.

Don moved to his wife and son, wrapping his arms around them both.

Maggie wrapped her free arm around Richie, Wentworth patted his son’s back.

Arlene pulled Ben into a hug, and then reached for Beverly drawing her in as well.

When the moment passed, and everyone had settled once more the talk turned to logistics.

“Besides Mike, can we prove that Mr. Gray has the other boys illegally?” Wentworth asked.

“I’m pretty sure Eddie’s legally his,” Richie said. “Mr. Gray is his godfather. He got Eddie when his mom died.”

“If we knew where the Denbroughs died we could see if there really was a car accident,” Ben said.

“You aren’t to go digging up that information,” Arlene said.

“Mom –”

“It won’t do any good, and will only be more dangerous.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Ben asked.

“Let us handle it,” Arlene looked to the other grown ups.

“How? It’s not like you can go to the cops,” Richie said.

“Richard,” Maggie cut in.

“No, but I might know some people,” Arlene said.

“Who?” Don asked.

“Ben’s father was in the Air Force and had some contacts in DC.”

“You’re bringing the feds into this?” Richie asked the excitement in his voice was palatable.

“Rich, this isn’t a joke,” Stan said.

“Stanley’s right,” Arlene said, “and I don’t know who else to turn to. Clearly we need someone outside of Derry.”

“What happens to them after?” Beverly didn’t dare ask what would happen if they failed. “Will they be put back into the system?”

The grown ups looked at one another.

“We won’t let that happen,” Andrea said.

Maggie nodded. “We’ll figure something out. They won’t be placed with people like Mr. Gray again.”

“Wait,” Ben said. He looked at Beverly communicating with her without words. She looked puzzled, so he spoke to the group. “There is a trustee who is caring for the Hanlon Farm. We think he was supposed to be Mike’s guardian if he had survived the fire.”

“Who is this mystery trustee?” Wentworth asked with a smile.

“A Mr. Richard Halloran,” Ben said. “We believe he might be in town this month, but he usually resides in Florida.”

Wentworth looked to Don, “name sound familiar to you?”

Don nodded. “Sure, can’t place it but I’ve definitely heard it before.”

“We think he might be at the Derry Townhouse,” Ben said.

“You kids have certainly done your research,” Wentworth said.

Ben flushed at the praise.

Andrea checked her watch. “It’s getting late. We’ll start looking into this and figuring out what to do to get these kids out.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Stan said, desperation and anxiety on the rise.

Andrea put a hand to Stan’s cheek, “of course, sweetie. Try not to worry too much.”

The meeting was over. The Urises walked with the Toziers to the front door. Wentworth and Don were talking about the mysterious Mr. Halloran, agreeing to both look into it. They shook hands before parting. Maggie and Andrea discussed how to legally separate the children from Mr. Gray, promising to tell one another what they found the next time they saw one another. Andrea hugged Maggie before she left.

“Good job tonight, Stan the Man. For the first time since this began I feel hopeful. How stupid is that?” Richie asked with a laugh.

“It’s not stupid. And I feel hopeful too.”

“Do you think the grownups can swing it?”

“With Wentworth on our side anything is possible,” Stan teased.

“I knew you were always sweet on my dad.”

“Gross,” but Stan laughed nonetheless.

Arlene followed the larger group walking with Ben and Beverly. Before they got to the front door she turned to Bev.

“Do you need somewhere to stay? We don’t have much room at Jean’s, but I’m sure we could find somewhere for you,” Arlene said.

Beverly was touched by her concern. “I think my dad would freak out if I stayed with my boyfriend’s family.”

“Do you have any girlfriends you can stay with?” Arlene asked.

Beverly shook her head, oddly embarrassed at the fact.

Arlene frowned. “Well if you ever need anything, you just let me know.”

Beverly ignored Ben trying to find the courage to ask for help, to say what she needed to say. “I um, I’m actually looking for my mom.” Her voice sounded weird, like she was underwater. And she couldn’t stop from blinking back tears. “She left when I was really young. I always thought she abandoned us, but I think there might be more to it. I was wondering if you could use some of your connections to help me find her. Only if it’s not too much trouble.”

Arlene’s frown melted. “Of course we can try, honey. What’s her name?”

“Elfrida Marsh. Her maiden name was Phillips.”

Arlene jotted it down. “I’ll let you now if I find anything.”

Beverly nodded trying not to cry.

Arlene went to go speak to the Urises, leaving Ben and Beverly to say goodbye.

“I didn’t know you were looking for your mom,” Ben said.

“I know. I didn’t want to tell anyone. It felt silly in the midst of everything else that’s going on.” Beverly’s voice wavered. God, she wished she had better control of her emotions.

“It’s not silly, especially not with what we know about your dad,” Ben said.

Beverly shrugged.

“Hey, I got you something,” Ben said. He pulled a box from his pocket, before passing it to her. “I was going to wait until our date on Sunday, but I thought you could use it now.”

Beverly’s fingers trembled as she opened the box. In it lay a silver necklace with a small feather charm.

“It’s beautiful,” Beverly was definitely crying now.

“I figured you could tell your dad you don’t wear the locket cause I gave you this.” Ben shrugged.

She traced the details on the feather. “I love it, thank you.”

Beverly pulled Ben into a kiss, allowing her tears to fall freely, before tucking her head into his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around her not minding the wet spots on his shirt sleeve. Mrs. Uris had been right, they weren’t alone. Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter as I got to imagine what some of the Losers' parents were like if they had had healthy supportive relationships with their children. I hope you enjoyed a little bit of comfort, you'll need it for the next chapter. I'm sorry in advance...you're probably going to hate me for it...  
> Thank you for all the support I have gotten on this fic. It means so much to me that you are enjoying it and loving it. Please leave a comment below, or come visit me on [ tumblr](https://theweaverofworlds-official.tumblr.com/). Be well, friends. Until next time.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	15. Chapter 15

Eddie’s nerves were on fire. He had never felt so alone. He stood by Robert’s side in a group of men he didn’t know. Robert seemed to have no interest in making introductions, and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how he was going to get Beverly her list.

“Mr. Kaspbrak,” a voice said at his elbow.

Eddie turned and found Mr. Keene standing there with two beers in his hand. He offered one to Eddie.

“Oh I’m not –”

“Come now, you’re mature for your age. I’m sure you can handle,” Mr. Keene smiled pressing the slick bottle into his hand.

“I don’t know if Robert will let me,” Eddie said.

Mr. Keene turned to Robert. “You don’t mind if Eddie has a beer, do you?”

Robert eyed Mr. Keene as if he were a bug beneath his shoe. “You aren’t trying to get one of my charges drunk, Mr. Keene, are you?”

Mr. Keene laughed. “Certainly not. He may be small, but one beer could hardly have an effect on him.”

Robert was silent for a moment, and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what was going on behind his eyes.

“Drink or don’t, Eddie. You’re mature enough to decide for yourself,” Robert said throwing Mr. Keene’s words back at him. He turned back to the conversation, dismissing both Eddie and Mr. Keene.

Eddie took a cursory sip. His tongue recoiled at the sour taste of the beer. He tried to hide his cough.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mr. Keene said, patting his shoulder.

Eddie nodded. Now was his chance. “Mr. Keene, who are these men talking to Robert?”

“Well over there is Officer Borton. Personal friend of Bowers. The other man is Terry Rhulin. His property is just over there.” Mr. Keene gestured into the dark. “He doesn’t like Butch much, but he likes the blood.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how he was going to remember all these names. He wished that he could make notes.

“Mr. Keene, how many folks do you think come to these fights?”

Norbert Keene let out a dry laugh. “I’d say most folks. Drink your beer, Eddie, before it gets warm.”

Eddie took a sip trying not to gag. After forcing himself to swallow he asked, “how do you know who to tell about the fights and who might rat you out? It seems risky.”

“You ask a lot of questions don’t you?”

Eddie took a deep swig of his beer to try to appease the older man. He could feel Keene’s eyes watching his lips, wet with beer, before tracing the line of his throat where his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Eddie felt like he was about to vomit. He pulled the bottle from his lips with a pop. His eyes were watering, and he hoped Keene didn’t mistake them for tears. He ran the back of his hand across the lips to remove the remaining wetness. “I’m sorry, Mr. Keene. I guess I just don’t know how else to keep your attention.”

Mr. Keene’s suspicion was replaced with an oily smile. “Oh, Eddie. You should have just said so from the start. I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

Mr. Keene gestured for Eddie to step closer. He did so, and for once he longed for Robert’s looming shadow which promised him that the older man was right behind him.

“An organization like this is a brotherhood, and it relies on certain assets.”

“Like the fighters?” Eddie asked.

Keene laughed. “Sort of, but there’s more than that. They’re replaceable after all. There’s a lot that isn’t so replaceable. There’s a lot of risk for some of these men, particularly our fine Sheriff, so those in attendance have to pay their dues. For the insurance companies, you see?”

There was no insurance company.

Eddie saw just fine. 

“So everyone has to pay Butch, in cash?”

“What a smart boy,” Keene clapped his hand on Eddie shoulder. “Why don’t you take another sip of that beer.”

Eddie did so, trying to swallow as little of the brown liquid as he could. Keene’s smile grew.

“How often are these payments made?” Eddie asked. He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious.

“Once a month,” Keene said. “Butch needs to assure his clienteles’ loyalty. Should anyone turn against him, he has enough on them to make sure that they’ll be hurtin’ too. But if they do particularly well with their bets they can win it all back. In Derry we look out for our neighbors, Eddie. We take care of one another.”

“How big are the membership dues?”

Mr. Keene’s smile faltered. “Now why would you want to know that?”

Eddie thought that the only way out now was through. “It doesn’t matter.” Eddie said kicking his toe through the dirt. He glanced at Mr. Keene through his lashes before looking away. God, he hated himself.

Mr. Keene chugged the last of his beer. “Why don’t we talk about more suitable things?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Like what?”

“You.” Mr. Keene grinned.

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t have any friends.”

“That’s too bad, a smart boy like you? You’re probably just too mature for the other boys your age. They must be jealous.”

Eddie nodded. He didn’t like where this conversation was going. He desperately wanted to use his inhaler, but somehow he thought that would only make Mr. Keene smile more.

“Do you ever think about it, Eddie?”

“Think about what?” His breaths were coming in gasps.

“The loneliness? Touching yourself down there to help relieve the ache?” Mr. Keene wet his lips.

Eddie began to back away. “I should get back to Robert.”

“I could help you with it,” Mr. Keene said. “You’re special, Eddie. Different.”

Eddie raced through the crowd no longer caring about good manners. He dropped the glass bottle, beer spilling out onto the dry earth. His skin crawled as he thought about the old man touching him, any second now he was going to vomit.

He made his way between the hot bodies of the adults, faces blurring as he ran.

Out to one of the shacks at the edge of the light. Eddie ran to the far side, reveling in the cool air. He dropped to his knees and began to vomit. The beer and bile burned his throat, mixing sourly on his tongue. He kept throwing up, tears streaming down his cheeks. He never wanted to drink alcohol again. He didn’t want to go to Keene’s Pharmacy ever again.

He longed for Richie. For the elevated language of Shakespeare. For the first time, he felt Bill’s desire to be clean. He wanted nothing more than to be normal.

Shakily, Eddie stood up. He went to grab his inhaler, hating his body for needing the soothing taste of medication. It felt like they were winning somehow. Eddie’s breathing slowed after that and he began to walk back to the crowd. He tried to listen for names, to see if he recognized anyone, but it was all a blur. It was like everyone but him was underwater.

Suddenly a hand snatched his arm, pulling him painfully to the side. He looked up and found Robert glaring down at him.

“Where have you been?” He asked.

“Nowhere – I –” his tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

“You smell like fucking booze. Are you drunk?”

“No, I –” more tears came to Eddie’s eyes.

“I expect better of you, Eddie.”

“Yes, sir.” He ducked his head, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand.

Robert placed a hand on Eddie’s head. “You aren’t the easiest kid to raise. Lord, knows you cost me a small fortune in medical bills, but you know I still love you, right?”

Eddie nodded.

“Good.” Robert began to walk away before turning on his heel. “Oh, before I forget. When you go to Keene’s tomorrow, be sure to pick up your new prescription. He should have it ready by then.”

“New prescription?” Eddie’s voice sounded hollow in his own ears.

“That’s right. It’s supposed to slow your metabolism. You’re getting thin, Eddie, and after what happened to your mother I’d hate to see you go that way too.” Robert said over his shoulder leaving Eddie in the center of the crowd. He looked down at his hands wondering if he was wasting away. Would he vanish someday? Would anyone care?

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and hurried to find Georgie.

–

Tonight, Mike was in the cage first.

Upon entering the ring he saw a boy from the first night. Not CB, the other one. Mike racked his brain trying to remember the boy’s name. As if drawing upon it from Dunning’s thoughts, the name came to him moments before it passed the announcer’s lips.

Corcoran.

The boy was much smaller than Mike. Even though fall was upon them, Mike could see traces of a farmer’s tan, his stomach pale as a fish’s belly. The bruises stood out more starkly against the pale flesh. There also looked like old cuts. There was no way he had gotten them in the ring. Mike could only wonder what Corcoran’s home life was like. Corcoran looked over his shoulder to the man standing in his corner.

In the moment just before the bell rang, Mike could hear a shrill piercing voice.

“Show the nigger who’s boss, Eddie. Fucking show him.”

Mike looked to see a younger boy standing by the man in the corner. A boy who looked remarkably like Corcoran. They must be brothers, and yet despite the boy in the ring’s hesitation this one was calling for blood. Mike couldn’t help but think of Bill and Georgie. How easy would it have been for this to be them?

Mike dreaded the thought. He approached Corcoran, preparing to be struck.

–

Eddie Kaspbrak watched the fight, hand holding Georgie’s. He had heard what the horrid little Corcoran child had screamed before the bell had rung. Hearing his own name had been like ice water to the bones, and now he could only watch as Mike took a beating.

It was clear that the older Corcoran boy was fighting for his life. Something about this fight mattered, if he lost it he would likely be punished if those scars were anything to go off of. What was wrong with the fucking adults in this town? Eddie hated Derry. He hated how twisted it was.

Two rounds done, and neither opponent seemed to tire. This one was about to get bloody.

–

Mike came to his corner panting. Four rounds down. Halfway over, and even though both he and his opponent were beginning to tire, the fight seemed endless. His side hurt like a bitch. The nose bleed wouldn’t stop.

“What’s taking so long, Michael?” Robert asked as Mike chugged the cold water. His throat muscles couldn’t work fast enough to swallow, and the chilly water spilled down his chest.

“He’s hard to beat.”

“Perhaps I should give you some incentive. If you lose, Eddie will have to spend the rest of the week in the attic. All that dust can’t be good for his asthma, don’t you think? It would be pretty shitty of you if you can’t keep him from that fate.”

“Don’t.”

“Win the fucking fight, and I won’t.”

The bell rang. 

–

Eddie had watched Robert whispering to Mike during the break, and while he hadn’t been able to hear any of it, based on Mike’s expression it hadn’t been good. As the bell rang, Mike threw himself towards the center of the ring landing a heavy punch to Corcoran’s side.

The boy took a step back, throwing his arms up to block his face. Mike threw punch after punch until Corcoran was against the chain fence. The crowd was screaming, a mix of booing and cheering that was deafening.

Eddie watched the other Eddie try to break away, but Mike had him pinned. One more hard hit to the head and he would be down. And while Eddie wanted this all to be over, he couldn’t help but think not like this.

Corcoran collapsed. The fight was over.

The victory was a hollow one. Eddie knew the boy lying in the dirt would be punished for losing. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, feel sorry for Mike. The fight he had just watched had stripped away some of Mike’s humanity. He had become a bully, beating a smaller man to the ground until he was nothing. Eddie’s heart broke for Mike most of all.

–

Patrick Hockstetter entered the ring next, the crowd cheered for their idol. Eddie tuned out his fight a little alarmed at how desensitized he had become to the violence. But although he didn’t look into the ring, that didn’t stop him from hearing the alarming snap of bones breaking and the high pitched never ending scream that followed. Eddie would dream about that scream for years to come.

– 

“And now as a special treat,” Dunning’s voice was warm and low, the buzz of anticipation was like the drone coming from a wasp’s nest. “You have seen Hockstetter crush bones, now it’s time to see what his little brother AHock can do!”

Applause broke out as the lanky teen crept in on noiseless feet. Greasy dark hair hung about his face, his eyes shifted around the ring never staying anywhere too long.

“And his opponent, Denbrough!”

– 

Bill entered the cage. 

Based on what Mike had told him about his fight against the younger Hockstetter, Bill had nothing to worry about. If he was lucky, this would be over before round four. But Bill should have known better than to trust his luck.

As soon as the bell rung, Hockstetter jr. sprung from his corner like a feral cat. Bill didn’t comprehend what was happening until the third blow landed against his ribs. He tried to tighten his muscles, to prevent taking so much pain, but as he focused on that Avery swung for his head.

Bill ducked, the punch making a whooshing sound as it cut through the vacant air.

Avery let out a screech before letting another haymaker fly. Bill bobbed, stepping out of Avery’s zone, but the younger boy followed. Each hit missed and was punctuated by a frustrated scream. There was no discipline, it was like being caught in the midst of a tantrum.

Bill aimed a left jab for Avery. The blow landed, and he followed it with a right cross. The first shot stunned Avery allowing for Bill to get in the longer one. The boy stumbled back disoriented. Bill followed his lead. Keeping close to Hockstetter, Bill was able to land a flurry of hits, beating the smaller boy towards the gate.

The bell rang.

The next few rounds fell into a pattern. Hockstetter would lead the round, coming out of his corner like a bat from hell. Where his attacks lacked strategy, he made up for in crazed strength. But soon he would slip up, and that was when Bill would gain the upper hand. However, before he could press his advantage the round always ended.

With each subsequent break, Bill grew more and more tired. His leads on Avery grew shorter and shorter. His entire body was screaming in protest. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

“You’re making me look like a fool, losing to that untrained brat,” Robert said after one particularly grueling round.

“W-what do you suggest? M-maybe you should try f-f-fighting him.”

“Don’t get smart with me. Just win.”

Bill limped back into the ring, wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand.

–

This was it. The last round. Bill stood waiting for the bell to ring. His entire left side was on fire. Bruises were forming across his ribs and stomach. There was a shooting pain in his hip which caused a hitching limp in his step. He could taste blood on his tongue. Underneath the wrappings, his knuckles were raw, the tender skin protested every time he curled his hands into fists.

Bill saw no discernible way to beat Avery. The boy was feral, and showed little sign of tiring. His only chance at victory was Avery’s sloppiness, but he didn’t like the odds. Bill studied his opponent, the slight form standing in the bright corner, his shadow stretching beyond the cage like a demonic angel.

Bitterly he thought how this was so different from his previous fight. Even though that one had been rigged it had still felt more fair than this. He thought about Connor, the dirty blond curls and dark eyes. It made him think of another boy, and if he had seen the resemblance earlier he didn’t know how he would have been able to fight.

The part of Bill that loved Stan seemed like the only clean part left in him.

The bell rang, and Bill faced the devil.

–

Avery shot from his corner, a bloodcurdling scream already on his lips. Another haymaker, they seemed to be his go to. Bill dodged, but he didn’t land correctly and ended up stumbling over his own feet. Pain shot up from his hip. With a cry, Bill fell to the ground.

Avery sprung on him. His added weight was nothing, and yet it still knocked what little breath Bill had from his body.

Bill tried to scramble away, but the ache in his left side prevented him from moving far. Avery dug his uneven nails into Bill’s throat.

Bill choked.

He could feel the wetness of his own blood under Avery’s hands. His own hands came up weakly to try and push the boy away.

Avery spat on his face before tightening his hold.

Bill grabbed at his wrists. Distantly, and his thoughts were sounding awfully distant right now, he noted how small they were. Dainty. The blackout came right after that thought.

–

“Why won’t he wake up?” Georgie asked.

They were standing out by the outbuilding from before. Mike was chained to the post with Bill. When he had been brought out after his fight he had been out cold. Mike thought he had noticed a shift from blackout to sleep, but now he couldn’t be sure. Bill hadn’t responded to anything yet, and it was becoming worrying fast. Mike wondered if something had been broken, permanently.

“Did I do it wrong?” Georgie asked Eddie, fat tears pooling in his eyes.

“No you didn’t –”

“Shut up.” Robert cut in. The boys fell silent except for Georgie’s muffled sniffles.

Robert had a problem on his hands. Did he risk taking Bill to a hospital, covered in bruises, fingernail imprints on his throat? No. It was too risky. Eddie would have to make do. Robert eyed the teen, Georgie was huddled against him sobbing. Eddie looked little better. Fuck. He was going to wring Ronnie Hockstetter’s neck for this.

“Get him to the car. We’ll deal with this at home.”

“You mean you aren’t taking him to a hospital?” Eddie asked.

“You have plenty of pills and things. You’ll patch him up like always.”

“Pills won’t solve this,” Eddie came as close to yelling at Robert as he ever would. “It could be that he passed out or it could be a fucking coma. There might be permanent –”

“Edward, enough. If you don’t feel confident in your care we can get Norbert to help.”

“He’s a fucking pharmacist, what’s he going to do?”

“Stop acting like a child.” Robert raised his hand. Eddie flinched. 

Robert lowered his hand and stroked Eddie’s cheek. “I don’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry, Eddie. But you are so mature for your age I sometimes forget how young you are. Now let’s get Bill home.”

No more was said as the two boys were unlocked. Mike lifted Bill up gently and began walking towards the car. He stumbled a few times, but each time Georgie or Eddie offered to help he just shook his head.

Eddie got in the back with Bill, his legs swung across Eddie’s lap in order to keep them elevated. Georgie rode double with Mike in the front.

Eddie was reaching for his penlight when Bill opened his eyes.

“Oh thank god.”

“E-eddie –” Bill’s voice sounded raw.

“Shh, don’t talk. We’re going to fix this.”

“W-Where – what happened?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re going home,” Eddie said the word curiously. He would never think of Neibolt House as home, but the relief of being there rather than in that fucking barn was palatable.

Robert pulled into the driveway, and went immediately for his study to pour himself a glass of bourbon. Tonight had been a fucking disaster.

That left Eddie, Mike and Georgie to help Bill get into the house. They helped settle him into his bed and Eddie began checking his vitals.

As he worked, Mike took Georgie aside. “See if Robert will allow Eddie to stay in here tonight. I don’t think Bill should go unmonitored.”

Georgie nodded. This time as he descended the stairs he felt no trepidation speaking to Robert. He was pissed, what had happened tonight was risky. Even he knew how lucky it was that Bill had woken up. He entered Robert’s office without knocking.

“What do you want?” Robert’s words were loose with whiskey.

“Eddie is staying in our room tonight. Mike too.”

“There aren’t enough beds for all of you,” Robert said taking another sip of his drink.

“We’ll make it work. We did in Chicago and Las Vegas –”

“Enough.”

“I’m not asking.”

“Feisty.” 

Georgie glared at the older man.

“Counter offer, you know what those are, don’t you, Georgie? You’re a big boy. Eddie can stay in your room, but you will have to find somewhere else to sleep.” Robert’s words were slurred.

“Fine I’ll take his room.”

“No.”

“I don’t know what you –”

“You’ll take mine. With me. Don’t fight me on this, Georgie. Today has been hellish enough.”

Georgie backed away from Robert. He didn’t know what the other man was planning, but he didn’t want any part of it. “No.”

“Don’t you want Eddie to watch over dear, big brother, Bill. Isn’t that what you want? I’ll give it to you in exchange for one night in my bed.”

Georgie began to feel himself waver. “no.”

The word came out smaller this time.

Robert took a step towards Georgie. “Nothing is going to happen. Just a father sharing his bed with his scared son. I’ll protect you from all the nightmares tonight.”

Georgie shook his head.

“I know you have them. Dreams of your parents dying in that car crash over and over again. You think if you hadn’t asked them to come pick you up from Danny’s sleepover that they might be alive. Billy might not blame you for their deaths. I hear you in the night, Georgie. I know you want to take it all back.”

“no.”

“No?”

“You’re not my father.”

“I think you’ll find that I am.” Robert closed the distance between them. He knelt before Georgie.

Georgie could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Don’t be selfish, Georgie. Billy needs Eddie tonight. He probably wishes Eddie were his real brother. Eddie would never be a baby and need to picked up. Eddie wouldn’t have killed his parents. Don’t make Billy resent you more.”

“He could never.”

“Oh but he could. You might be the reason he lost his parents and his ability to write so well. Suppose he slips into a coma tonight, all because you couldn’t be a little selfless.”

“What’s going on here?” Mike asked pushing through the door.

The break in conversation was enough for Georgie to run to Mike.

“Just a healthy conversation on responsibility, Michael. Something you’ll never understand.”

Mike looked down at Georgie and then over to Robert. “I understand perfectly. C’mon, Georgie. It’s time to get you into bed. We’ll all be in the Denbroughs’ room tonight. I’m sure you understand.”

Mike picked Georgie up like he was still a little kid and carried him up the stairs, ignoring the twinge of pain in his lower back.

“Thank you, Mike.” Georgie whispered against his neck.

Mike tightened his hold. He wasn’t going to tell Bill about this, not now. The other boy had too much on his mind. Beverly. He would tell her. She would know what to do.

By the time they got upstairs, Bill was already asleep in his bed.

Georgie changed into pajamas and crawled in beside him. Bill woke up, “hey, Georgie.”

“Is this okay?” Georgie asked trying to take up as little space as possible.

Bill grunted as he moved over to make more room for Georgie.

Eddie guessed even if it wasn’t okay, Bill would always make room for Georgie.

“You okay if we share?” Eddie asked.

Mike nodded.

The two of them curled into Georgie’s bed. Eddie was careful not to lean too much on Mike as he might be in pain. They heard the door lock, and Mike let out a breath. Eddie looked at him curiously, but Mike just shook his head. It wasn’t something to be said in the dark. Not here.

They waited until the sounds of the house died away. Robert was asleep.

Eddie couldn’t stand listening to the uneven breathing in the room. It was a shallow breathing so different from the normal deep breath of sleep. He pulled his radio from where he stashed it under Georgie’s bed while he was bandaging Bill up.

“Spaghetti to the Losers,” Eddie said under his breath. This was dumb. He didn’t know what he was expecting. It was so late, he was sure everyone would be asleep, but right now he needed a reminder that this was not their future. That there was more. Eddie needed his friends.

“Hiya Spagheds, Trashmouth at your service,” the voice was surprisingly muted.

“New Kid, signing on.”

“Embers, here.”

“Bird boy.”

Eddie felt a lump rise in his throat. They were here. All of them.

“How was tonight?” Beverly asked.

“Terrible.”

“What can we do to help?” Ben asked.

Eddie looked at his friends, fighting pain in the hopes of gaining slumber. He thought not about his mystery mother who had left him to a psychopath, but about Mike and Bill’s moms. Women he would never know except from stories which were tinted warmly with nostalgia and love. “Know any lullabies?”

Silence.

Eddie was scared that he had embarrassed them. He was about to recant his statement when Stan’s voice came through. It was soft and sweet, obviously in another language, but it was a song of home and comfort. Eddie was soothed instantly.

Bill’s breathing changed, relaxing, growing deeper. It was as if his subconscious was responding to Stan’s singing.

After Stan’s lullaby, Ben sang next. Eddie didn’t recognize the song, but it was clear that it had been passed down through Ben’s family for generations.

Lastly Richie sang. He had a mellow tenor tone, so different than the stupid accents he always put on. Eddie curled up on his side as he listened to Richie singing under his breath.

Beverly spoke last. “I don’t have any lullabies to offer, but I’ll tell you this. We’re going to get you out. We have a plan.”

Eddie comforted by the music and conviction fell asleep after that. The Losers all signed off in whispers, and Eddie dreamed of a family without manipulation or violence. He dreamed not of his mother, nor Robert, but of a new mother. One who looked after him and protected him. One who made sure that he was okay without smothering him in her worries and fears. It was a good dream, and although he would not remember the particulars he would remember the warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter this week, because why not?  
> I'm so sorry for all I have put Eddie through in this fic. He kind of has become more of a prominent character than I ever imagined. Also sorry to Georgie... and Bill... and Mike. I don't know why y'all trusted me with them. Things are just kinda going to go downhill for a bit... but a happy ending is on the horizon. Eventually.  
> Please let me know what you think. Am I awful for putting you through all this emotional turmoil? How are you handling it? Do you love it or hate it?  
> Thank you as always for the support, next update will be up on the usual day. (It'll definitely be less angsty than this one)  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	16. Chapter 16

On Saturday morning, Ben came down to Aunt Jean’s kitchen to find his mother already up sitting at the table. A cup of coffee steamed by her left hand, her right was busy circling something in the newspaper.

“What are you doing?” Ben asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Just looking at listings. I think it’s about time we try and find a place of our own, don’t you Benny?”

Ben was alarmed. “These are all in Portland.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“I don’t want to be the new kid again. I like it here.” Beverly’s here. His friends were here. But he didn’t need to tell his mother that, she could infer it from his tone.

She looked up at him. “Derry isn’t what I thought it would be. Don’t you want a fresh start, away from – well you know.”

Ben shook his head. Derry had become his home, the Losers were his family. He couldn’t run now. “I want to stay. To fight.”

Arlene’s expression dropped to one more troubled. “You sound like your father.”

Her tone was a mix of pride and sorrow. Ben knew she hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but he couldn’t help but be blush at the comparison. He knew now more than ever that staying was the right thing to do.

“Mom, do we even have the money to move out of Aunt Jean’s?”

Arlene took his hand. “Don’t you worry about the money, don’t you worry about a thing.”

Instead of being comforted, Ben couldn’t help but feel a vague sense of foreboding about what his mother was planning. He could only hope that she would decide to stay.

That afternoon, Arlene Hanscom would telephone several people she knew in DC, setting in motion the biggest scandal Derry had yet to see since the sensational death of the Bradley Gang in ‘29. Harry Meadows’ hatred of technology and trouble updating the online archives of the _News_ would secede to bigger papers which would carry the story nationwide. Derry was finally going to be put on the map, all thanks to little Arlene Hanscom who never wanted to cause anyone any bit of trouble.

–

Across town at the House on Neibolt Street, Robert was conducting a meeting with Sheriff Bowers, Ronnie Hockstetter, and Richard Macklin. He insisted the boys play out front, and told them if he caught them eavesdropping the shiners from last night would be the least of their worries.

Eddie was currently sitting on the stoop, miserably considering the new medication Norbert Keene had given to him this morning. The side effects didn’t seem too bad, but was he really wasting away? He always knew he was small, but was it a risk? He rolled the cheerful yellow bottle between his hands, listening to the pills clink about the container. And as he considered his own mortality, Richie would have called him the world’s tiniest Hamlet had he been here, he watched Bill and Mike play fucking catch in the dead grass. If anyone should be considering their mortality it should be the two of them, Eddie thought glumly. They were in no state to play ball, but still had ignored Eddie’s whining.

Every arcing throw was met with winces, and between the laughter their were still groans. It felt like a small act of rebellion to Mike and Bill. A demonstration to Robert that although he controlled so much of their lives, he couldn’t completely steal their youth.

The ball made a soft whump each time it was caught in the worn gloves.

“You ever think about playing? Baseball I mean?” Mike asked after a particularly good fastball.

Bill shrugged to the best of his ability. “What about you? Any sports calling your name other than the ring?”

Mike let out a little laugh. “Always figured I’d have been pretty good at football.”

Bill smiled at that. His suspicion had been right. “Maybe you can try out for the team next fall.”

Mike smiled, a sad, worn one that told of a boy who knew better than getting his hopes up. “Yeah, maybe.”

Mike tossed the ball to Bill, who caught it with ease. “But you better try out for the baseball team come spring.”

“I think between the two of us, Derry might finally break its losing streak.”

Mike laughed before clutching his ribs.

It was Georgie who noticed the women approaching first. They were dressed like any suburban mom going for a walk in leggings and athleisure-wear type sweaters. They were clearly from a nicer part of town, but they didn’t look lost. In fact they were headed straight for 29 Neibolt Street. Only as they got closer did Georgie recognize them. He stood like a phantom at the gate, unable to stop their approach. Their arrival, if caught, would only spell trouble.

“Hello, boys,” the blonde woman said. Her hair was in a ponytail which swung and bounced as she walked.

Mike and Bill stopped their game, moving to the fence. Eddie froze like a rabbit who has been caught out in the open, his grip tightening on the shiny plastic bottle.

“M-Mrs. Uris. Mrs. T-Tozier.” Bill said softly in greeting. He looked back at Neibolt House afraid that Robert had heard his slip up. Technically he shouldn’t know who these women are.

“Please, Andrea and Maggie are fine,” Andrea said just as softly, eyes flitting to the house beyond the gate. They widened slightly as she noticed the crude bars placed on the second story windows. Her gaze returned to Bill.

Maggie hadn’t taken her eyes off of the structure since their approach. Bill wasn’t sure if she was disgusted by the broken facade or keeping watch for any unwanted listeners.

“You must be the new boys in town,” Andrea said louder. “I believe you are in our sons’ class. Richie and Stan?”

Bill and Mike shook their heads. Eddie watched mutely.

Andrea smiled. “That’s alright. We just wanted to stop by and welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“We’ve been here for weeks,” Eddie said.

Andrea laughed in a flippant sort of way which seemed unnatural coming from her lips. “Oh of course. But you know life happens, and you mean to do something but it gets pushed back.”

Eddie had nothing to say to that.

“Well we better continue our walk, don’t you agree Mags?”

Maggie, who still hadn’t taken her eyes off the windows of the house nodded distantly.

“It was lovely meeting you boys, and welcome to Derry.” Andrea said with a smile. It was full of warmth, more natural than the forced laugh, and for a moment the boys forgot their concerns.

At last Maggie let her gaze fall on Bill. She frowned, and without worrying about the consequences she reached her hand to brush some dirt from Bill’s cheek. The touch was so gentle, that instinctively Bill wanted to lean into it. She held her fingers to his bruised skin for as long as she dared before pulling away.

“Look after yourself, Bill Denbrough,” Maggie said in the same soft tone so as not to be heard by the house. She looked over to Georgie, pursing her lips, wanting to reach out. But she had already taken enough of a risk with Bill.

The women wandered away leaving the boys thoroughly baffled.

“What the hell was that?” Eddie asked.

“I have no c-clue.” Bill said, his eyes following Maggie and Andrea as they disappeared around the block. He and Mike returned to their game, but any enjoyment it had given them seemed to have left with the soft perfume of the two women.

Georgie watched Maggie and Andrea leave, wishing that he could follow them out of the shadow of 29 Neibolt Street. He looked back at the windows expecting to see Robert watching him, but there was nothing there. Eventually he moved away from the gate, back towards the other boys.

–

Once they had left the abandoned allotment that was Neibolt Street, Maggie and Andrea began to relax. The feeling of being watched had yet to leave them, but it was easier without the house looming above them.

“Christ.” Maggie said after a suitable silence.

“Did you see those bruises?” Andrea asked.

Maggie nodded. Although she had been focused on ensuring the nefarious Robert Gray had not been watching them, she would have had to be blind not to see the bruises painted across Bill and Mike’s faces. “I never doubted our sons, but seeing it was something else. Do you think we could get Arlene to take a look at them?”

“I don’t know how without alerting Robert. I just hope that we are doing the right thing. I hate that I can’t comfort those boys and tell them that it’s all going to be okay.”

“I know,” Maggie grabbed Andrea’s hand, thinking about how scared Georgie had looked as they approached. She would do anything to keep him from ever looking that way again.

“I can’t bear to think that they might end up with someone just as twisted as Robert or somewhere far from our kids. I don’t think our sons have even considered that as an option. In saving those boys they might lose them.”

Maggie looked thoughtful.

“What?” Andrea paused.

“I don’t think they’re going to lose one another. You saw how enamored our sons were to the new kids even at the football game.”

Andrea pulled out her ponytail, running her fingers through her curls. “I just wish I could see the right answer. There must be a way through all this.”

“Sometimes life isn’t so simple, but it usually turns out for the best. Take our sons, opposite as night and day but equally devoted to one another. And the bullying incident? You and Don handled that with maturity and grace. You got through that and we’re going to get through this.”

Andrea smiled at Maggie. “I bet your interior designer was itching to fix that house.”

“There’s not saving that house. Did you see the bars? The whole place ought to be burned down.”

The two mothers continued their walk through Derry, and although the burden of the Neibolt children weighted heavily on their consciousnesses there was no denying the beauty of autumn come to Derry.

– 

That afternoon, Wentworth pulled up to the Derry Townhouse. He felt a thrill run through him which reminded himself of his boyhood when he and the others would play spy. He rather felt like a spy here on covert ops. He shook his head. This wasn’t a game. There was the matter of a young man’s future at stake, not to mention the profitable lands that were the Hanlon Farms. Wentworth had to be cautious. This was a fact finding mission only, no dramatics as his wife had reminded him before he left.

Wentworth strode up the stairs and entered the lobby of the Townhouse. The place was dead. Wentworth wasn’t actually sure how the Townhouse got enough business to keep its doors open to be honest. He wondered if some of the income came from less savory activities. Was the Derry Townhouse a front? Once more Wentworth was reminded of his childhood, only this time it was a game involving the mafia and cops. But if is son was to be believed, and Wentworth did believe Richie, then this was a game in which both the mob and the cops were dirty. He would have to be very careful indeed.

He went to the front desk. Abandoned. He rang the little silver bell.

A young man came from the back, a customer-service smile already on his lips.

“Doctor Tozier.” The smile turned to something more genuine.

“Freddie Toomey from Dramatic Lit 300, last fall semester wasn’t it?” Wentworth said returning his former student’s smile.

“That’s me.”

“And you’ve always worked out the townhouse?”

Toomey shrugged. “Cheaper than on campus housing. Get my room and board discounted, and still am paid a fair amount for helping Mrs. Kersh out.”

Wentworth nodded. He hated to think that Toomey was in on the fight club, but he supposed that was the point. It could be anyone. He was going to have to be sneaky. “I don’t suppose Mrs. Kersh is in?”

Toomey looked doubtful. “She may be in the back taking her tea. Is it something I could help with?”

“I was hoping to ask her about using the bar for a night of readings,” Wentworth said offhandedly. “Just some students coming up and doing a mix of sonnets and monologues, to get the experience of being on stage.”

If Freddie Toomey was curious as to why Wentworth wouldn’t just use one of Derry College’s auditoriums he didn’t ask. He was used to the eccentricities of the professor who during Dramatic Lit 300 had taught an entire lecture on _Romeo and Juliet_ at the kissing bridge for “dramatic effect.” Doctor Tozier liked doing a lot of things for “dramatic effect.”

Toomey told Wentworth he would see if Mrs. Kersh were available and would be right back.

Once he was gone, Wentworth looked around the empty lobby before slipping behind the front desk. Nothing was computerized, so he went to the ledger that was open on the counter and began looking through the names written in a spidery hand.

There. Two names from the bottom was _Richard Halloran. Rm 217._

Wentworth copied it down on some blotter paper before sticking the note into his pocket. He was unsure what to do with the information, perhaps send a letter? But it was a decision that would have to be made another time, as already he began to hear Toomey and Mrs. Kersh approach.

He returned to the far side of the desk, tucking the note into his pocket as Toomey led the way, followed by Mrs. Kersh.

Kersh looked like the kind of mean old granny no one would want to mess with. Her thin lips were drawn tight, and behind her beady eyes resided something mean. Her thin gray hair was pulled away from her face revealing a series of bite marks on the side of her throat. She pulled the housecoat around her as she noticed Wentworth’s stare.

“Can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if I would be able to use your bar for a night of readings.” Wentworth asked with little conviction. What had happened to her neck?

“I think not, Doctor Tozier,” she said his name with such acridity that Wentworth automatically took a step back.

“Alright no worries.” He replied and turned on his heel. That woman was a fucking banshee. Why anyone would stay at the Derry Townhouse was a fucking mystery to him.

Once he was outside his hand went to his pocket and curled protectively around the information hidden there.

–

The Derry Losers were at the library, a heavy silence sat over them all. Ben was going over his notes, trying to see if there was anything they had missed. Meanwhile, Beverly was searching her mother’s journal for clues to where she might have gone. If only there was any information about her extended family, but the pages were filled and filled with dreams and plans surrounding Alvin. Beverly couldn’t stand that her mother had been taken in and played so easily. She kept eyeing the door, hoping Eddie would come in with some new information.

After telling their parents everything last night, they had been told not to worry and to let the grown ups handle it, but Beverly couldn’t stand sitting on the sidelines. She was anxious to get involved once more.

As she and Ben sat watching the door, Richie and Stan wandered the stacks. They were headed to the law section in search of any reference books which may provide loopholes to save their friends. Unfortunately, the Derry Public Library did not have much on family law. It didn’t take long for Stan and Richie to grab the three books which looked like they might contain useful information. As they rounded the corner to go back to their friends they saw Jake Epping waving them over from where he sat.

“Fine Saturday to spend in the library,” their English teacher said in way of greeting.

“Sure is,” Richie said perhaps a little too heartily.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Epping?” Stan asked.

“Just catching up on some work before Monday,” Jake held up the next book on their reading list, _Corelli’s Mandolin_. “Between Sadie and myself, we generate enough paperwork to drown our house. It’s good to get out and work other places from time to time. And what are you boys reading today?”

Stan tried to hide the spines of the books before Epping could read them, but he was too slow. The teacher’s eyebrows crept up in surprise. “Family law? Now what has you interested in that?”

Stan looked to Richie.

Richie smiled, “can’t stop the flow that is the River Curiosity. No saying where she’ll take you.”

Epping looked amused. “No, I can’t say that you can. Just don’t let her drown you. That’s some heavy stuff there.”

“We won’t,” Stan promised, tugging Richie away. “Goodbye, Mr. Epping.”

Once they were far enough away Stan asked, “River Curiosity? Really, Rich?”

Richie laughed, draping his arm over Stan’s shoulders. “Hey, it worked didn’t it?”

“You’re actually insane, you know that right?”

“You tell it to me every night before we go to bed, dah-ling.” Richie said going to press a wet smooch on Stan’s cheek. Stan elbowed him away.

When they returned to the table they found Georgie Denbrough there with Beverly and Ben. He was in the middle of explaining why he was there as Stan and Richie slipped silently into their seats.

“– Eddie didn’t dare ask to leave, with the meeting going on. He figured I could slip away the fastest, I should be going back soon,” Georgie said looking over his shoulder.

“Do you have the list?” Beverly asked with a shocking amount of patience.

Georgie pulled something from his pocket. He hadn’t looked at the paper so he couldn’t say what it was. 

“Eddie said to give this to you. But, um, Mike added something to the bottom and said you would understand? I really should be leaving now.” Georgie said shoving the paper into Beverly’s hand before running out of the library.

As he went, Beverly carefully unfolded the paper and read the contents. In Eddie’s hasty scrawl was written:

_-Borton_  
-Rhulin  
-follow money, payments in cash ea. mo. 

Added in Mike’s looping hand was something that gave her pause.

_R. lusting for KING. Caught him trying to get KING to bed last night. B. doesn’t know._

She looked at the other Losers, who had moved to read over her shoulder.

“King?” she asked.

“King George,” Richie said a mix of disgust and horror creeping across his face..

Beverly’s heart stopped cold. The paper began to shake in her hand. Despite all they had accomplished so far, the news was disheartening to say the least.

“What now?” Stan asked.

Beverly wished she had an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support! I appreciate all your love and comments more than I can ever say. I hope you're enjoying the ride.  
> The next chapter and things get bad, place your predictions below. I'm eager to see what you think will happen, and I apologize in advance.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	17. Chapter 17

Come Monday, Bill Denbrough still felt awful. He’d had a minor headache which persisted all weekend, and he had had trouble falling asleep which left him tired and irritable in the mornings. While he still carried the physical toll of the fight, there was something much weightier on his mind, something which distracted him from even beginning to worry about what Robert’s meeting had been about. The longer he thought about Maggie and Andrea’s visit the more he realized that someone must have said something, and if he had to bet, he would put his money on Trashmouth Tozier. Of course the other teen would ignore his warnings and go straight to his parents when things got tough. A mixture of betrayal and anger stirred in Bill as he made his way to Richie’s locker before homeroom.

“T-Tozier.”

Richie turned from where he was talking to Stan, the surprise evident on his face.

“You f-f-fucking snitch.”

“Language –”

“Shut up. You t-told your m-mother about our situation, d-d-didn’t you.” Bill clenched his still sore knuckles into a fist. The tender skin began to open up again.

“Bill –”

“D-don’t lie. I get enough of that at h-h-home.”

Richie looked over at Stan before facing Bill head on. “Yeah I told, but guess what? We’re in deep shit and maybe an adult’s perspective could be helpful.”

“It w-w-wasn’t yours to tell.”

“Oh yeah? Not every adult in Derry is a manipulative asshole. Maybe you just have a way of drawing them to you like a fucking beacon. Takes one to know one, right?”

“Fuck y-you,” Bill lunged for Richie, but Stan pushed his way in between them.

“Enough. Stop it. Stop! I told.”

The fire left Bill. “Y-you.”

Stan nodded biting his lip.

“Fuck, Stan. I thought I could trust you.”

“You can.”

“A-apparently not. Stay away from m-me. W-we’re d-done.”

Stan watched Bill go, trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall down his cheeks.

“C’mon, man, let’s go.” Richie said putting his hand on Stan’s shoulder.

Stan turned into the contact, falling into Richie’s open arms. He sobbed into his best friend’s shoulder. The one time he had thought that he was being brave, that he was standing for something he believed in and he had fucked up. He had lost the one person he couldn’t bear to lose, the person who had inspired him to stand up for what was right in the first place. Stan wept in the hall no longer caring what the bullies thought. Everything was ruined.

–

Henry Bowers watched the fight in the hall with interest, an idea forming in his mind.

–

During homeroom, Bill sat away from the other Losers. He could sense Eddie and Mike watching him, but he had nothing to say to them. Christ, it was all fucked. He was losing control. So much of his life had been dictated for him, and the one thing he felt like he had a handle on, the one thing he felt was going right had been fucked up.

Bill couldn’t face Stan. Not with his wet nose and red eyes. Bill wanted to hate Stan, but he couldn’t. He wished he could cut off all the hot emotion in his chest, cut it out of him and be dead. That would be easier than the burn of betrayal. The cool calm of nothing. Bill longed for that. He longed to be clean.

Mike watched Bill unsure what had happened. Ever since Saturday Bill had begun withdrawing, pulling deeper and deeper within himself. Mike wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have sent that message with Georgie. Had Georgie seen it? Had he told Bill? But that wouldn’t explain the frostiness between Bill and the other Losers. Mike looked to Beverly to see if she had any clues, but she looked just as confused as the rest.

Only Richie and Stan seemed to know what was happening, but based on how Richie was postured, ready to defend Stan at any moment, Mike figured homeroom might not be the best time or place to bring it up. He looked over to Eddie. He saw the boy’s instinctual need to go to Bill and make sure everything was okay. Eddie may not always open up to Bill about all his own fears, but Mike knew it was because he worshiped Bill to a certain degree and didn’t want the other teen to think less of him.

Eddie sat in his own personal hell. Part of him wanted to confront Bill, ask what happened. But another side of him desired nothing more than to soothe the angry lines that marked Richie’s face. They didn’t suit him. He looked older. Broken, somehow. And Eddie wanted nothing more than to fix everything for him. But if Eddie went to Richie he would be betraying Bill. So Eddie sat with his head down wondering if this is how Juliet felt when Romeo killed Tybalt.

Beverly’s knee bounced under her desk, her fingers fiddling with the silver charm around her neck. The guardedness of the bespectacled teen seemed to set them all off, and had Stan been crying? She wasn’t sure what had happened this morning, but whatever it was didn’t look good.

– 

Bill remained taciturn for the rest of the day. He disappeared during lunch. None of the other Losers could find him. But of course none of the Losers thought to look at the baseball dugout, why would they? Only Mike had the vaguest clue that Bill liked baseball, and even he didn’t know how much it had meant to Bill.

Baseball was how he and his father had first bonded. Bill had always been a sensitive kid, more inclined to the arts, just like his mother. But when he had shown interest in little league, it became clear that he was Zach Denbrough’s son too. Zach had gone to all of Bill’s games, had even coached a season or two. Bill had never felt his father’s pride so much as when he was playing baseball. Sitting here reminded him of simpler times.

His head ached. He had needed to get away from the fluorescent lights and stale air. He needed to think.

Bill looked out across the field and wondered who he would be if his parents had never gotten into the car crash. Would they still be in Brooklyn? Would he have a boyfriend by now? Normal and well adjusted enough to have a boyfriend, that made Bill snort. He doubted he would be as close to Georgie as he was. He had forgotten how much they had fought when they were younger. It wasn’t anything big or serious, just stupid stuff, but there had been days that Bill had despised his little brother. But now? The thought was impossible. So long as they were with Robert, Bill could never hate Georgie. He was all he had left. They were everything to each other. Why couldn’t the others see that? Why were they so easily willing to risk Bill’s everything? He couldn’t understand it.

“Hey, you good?”

Bill jumped, willing his thoughts to leave him. Standing before him was a student he recognized from the halls, but of whom he didn’t know the name. The guy had a slight lisp, barely noticeable. It was more like a lilt in the way he spoke. There was something charming about it that set Bill at ease, or maybe it was the guy’s open smile. Either way his worries were starting to feel a million miles away. The silence remained until the strange boy spoke again.

“No one’s ever out here. I like to come here to think sometimes.”

“Oh,” Bill suddenly felt very stupid. “I’m s-sorry. I’ll g-go.”

“No. It’s okay. You looked like you needed it. I’m Bradley Donovan,” Bradley held out his hand to Bill.

Bill shook it. “Bill D-Denbrough.”

Bradley smiled. “Mind if I sit, Bill Denbrough?”

Bill shook his head.

Bradley sat beside him, leaving little room between them. He could feel Bradley examining him. Studying him. “What were you thinking about?”

Bill shrugged.

“Sure, I get it. You don’t have to share.” He paused. “You know you look beautiful when you’re like that.”

Bill turned to face Bradley. The other boy reached out placing a hand on Bill’s cheek, just below the faded remains of a bruise. His thumb pressed against it lightly, his eyes watching for any indication of pain.

“You’re beautiful when you’re sad.” Bradley surged forward, kissing Bill on the lips.

The feeling of wrongness that invaded Bill’s senses was overwhelming. This wasn’t who he wanted to be kissing. But the person he wanted had betrayed him, so where did that leave him? Bill could sense Bradley beginning to pull away. But some part of him needed this. Needed to be needed. He pulled Bradley closer, opening his mouth to the other boy’s lilting tongue.

The wrongness pervaded, but Bill drowned it with his moans.

–

In the cafeteria, Beverly kept looking over her shoulder wondering where Bill was. Ben and Eddie had gone looking for him, but so far nothing.

“You got my note?” Mike asked lowly, drawing Beverly’s attention back to the table.

“I got it.”

“Then you know –”

Beverly nodded. “Have you told Bill?”

Mike shook his head. “He’s dealing with so much these days, I didn’t know how to bring it up to him. I think maybe he found out and that’s why he’s behaving like this.”

“It’s not.” Stan said speaking for the first time all day.

“Stan, c’mon man, you don’t have to put yourself through this,” Richie said.

“It’s my fault. I told our parents everything, and Bill doesn’t trust us anymore.”

Mike sighed. So that explained Maggie and Andrea’s surprise visit on Saturday. He had wondered what had brought that about. Of course it was silly to get his hopes up over something so trivial, but knowing that someone had thought to check up on them after that awful fight lit something in Mike’s chest that he hadn’t felt for a long time.

“I think I should tell you what happened Friday night,” Mike said starting to explain everything which had occurred in the ring and after.

“So he still hasn’t seen a doctor?” Beverly asked at the end of the unhappy tale.

Mike shook his head.

“Ben’s mom is a nurse. Maybe she could look at him, at both of you,” Beverly amended.

Mike smiled that sad, soulful smile that told her that he wished things could be different. “If we could find a way, it might be a good thing. But Robert would know, and Bill is right. Somethings just aren’t worth the risk.”

“Your health isn’t worth the risk?”

“Skin and bones will heal,” Mike said.

“What’s worth the risk, then? For Bill? What will get him to see sense?” Richie asked.

“Georgie.”

“Then we tell him about what Robert did,” Richie said.

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?” Richie asked.

“He’s worried about too much. If he knows, I’m worried that he’ll try to kill Robert.”

“Good fucking riddance.”

“Do you ever think?” Mike asked not unkindly. “Things would only be worse if Bill knew the truth. We can’t tell him.”

“Protect him from himself,” Beverly said.

“You agree with him?” Richie asked.

Beverly shrugged. “Until we have more information I don’t think we should –”

“There is a little boy at risk and you don’t think we should do anything about it?”

“That’s not what I said, Richie.”

“Hey, guys?”

Ben and Eddie had returned sans Bill.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Ben asked.

“There is some disagreement in how to handle the Georgie situation,” Richie said.

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with Georgie?”

“You mean he doesn’t know either?” Richie asked.

Mike shook his head.

“Well are you going to tell him or shall I?”

“Richie, please –” Stan said trying to grab Richie’s arm. He was sick of the fighting.

“No, Stan. Not this time. Well, Mike?”

Mike looked to Eddie, the words heavy on his tongue. He couldn’t say it. It was too perverse. Too wrong. He looked to Richie helplessly.

“Eds, there is something you should know about Robert.”

The news felt wrong coming from Richie’s lips. Eddie felt like he had fallen into some bizzaro alternate universe. Richie shouldn’t know more about Robert than he did. It was impossible. There was no way that Robert – he wouldn’t – couldn’t. Robert had raised Eddie. He had – had – Eddie’s breaths came as gasps as he reached for his inhaler. They were wrong they had to be – 

Wrong.

It was wrong how Robert had looked at Georgie the day he arrived. Eddie had only been 12, but he had still known. Lust. There was no other word for it. He had just ignored it. Why? Why had he ignored it? Because Robert had never touched him that way? Because of how sad Bill had looked with his one battered suitcase and box of possessions? Why had he ignored the feeling of wrongness all this time? Why hadn’t he said anything?

It was Robert’s voice which answered these questions. He hadn’t wanted to know. Didn’t want to think anything wrong of his dear papa. Nothing so sinister as molesting a child. He thought about the way Norbert Keene looked at him. How he had pressed the slippery, wet bottle into his hand and told him to drink. They were one and the same, Robert and Norbert. Eddie saw that now. They both needed to be taken down.

Ben looked as appalled as Eddie felt on the inside.

“What do we do?” Ben asked.

“We bide our time –” Beverly started.

“No.”

“Eds?”

“We have to get Georgie out of there. He can’t stay at Neibolt. He can’t,” Eddie wheezed grabbing his inhaler.

“We can’t tell Bill,” Mike countered. “He’s already so close to losing it –”

“We have to,” Eddie said.

“Let’s take a vote,” Ben said cutting through the argument. “Who wants to wait until things are more secure to tell Bill?”

Mike’s hand rose as did Beverly’s. Ben put his hand up as well.

“And who wants to tell Bill now?”

Eddie and Richie’s hands shot up.

Everyone turned to Stan.

“You didn’t vote,” Beverly said.

Stan looked up at his friends. “We tell. No more secrets.”

Stalemate.

The one person who could have broken the vote, the one who could never know it happened, currently had Bradley’s tongue licking its way into his mouth in a desperate bid to forget.

“What now?” Mike asked.

The Losers looked around at one another, not having any clue what to do or say next.

–

No one said anything when Bill reappeared for fourth period. Stan wouldn’t even look at him, but Richie did. Richie saw the flush of Bill’s lips, as well as the new bruises forming under his jaw and down his neck. He wondered just what Bill had gotten up to while the others had been locked in discussing his, and his brother’s, fate. Richie hoped that the distraction had been worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to come to a head. It won't be long until all hell breaks loose.  
> Thank you for all your continued support. I love hearing from you and responding to your comments and theories. Thank you so so much. (Also thanks to @Bibabybi for reminding me that Bradley Donovan exists.Tbh it could have been either Moose Sadler or him, they just made the decision for me.)  
> Please let me know what you thought of the chapter, I know it's a little bit shorter than usual but plenty happened. Also any predictions for what's to come? I hope so.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW
> 
> Next chapter: The Losers finally get a break...


	18. Chapter 18

As the week progressed, Bill became unmoored. He no longer spoke to the other Losers during classes, and at lunch he disappeared.

He spent that stolen hour in the dugout with Bradley. While there he could forget about the cage, about the Losers, about Stanley. Kissing Bradley was like morphine, dragging him into a hazy world without pain. Addictive. Bill was becoming dependent on the feeling of Bradley’s tongue licking long swaths up his throat, the feeling of his stocky fingers curled in his hair. It was the only time he liked being alive anymore.

Bill knew that Mike and Eddie were worried. They had been having a lot more of those secret conversations without words, but he found himself not caring. Especially not with Bradley’s hand snaking up his shirt, tracing lines into the skin just above his hipbones. Bill couldn’t help but push into the touch, needing more, but instead Bradley shoved his hips down into the worn bench murmuring into Bill’s ear, “patience, Denbrough.”

Bill huffed.

“You’re cute like this, all hot and bothered for me.” Bradley dug his fingers into Bill’s hips. “So different than when we first met.”

“How s-so?” Bill asked, impatient for Bradley to finish speaking so that they could get back to kissing.

“You looked like a trampled flower, sitting here all alone.” Bradley brought a hand back to Bill’s cheek. The bruise had all but faded, the tender ache was just a hint of what it had once been. “Hurt. Broken. Lonely. Like an avenging angel, untouched and untouchable.”

“And now?” Bill asked, trying not to squirm.

“Now you have me.” Bradley sounded so satisfied, the smirk bringing out his dimples. 

“Oh, yeah?” Bill asked, rising to the challenge. 

“Yeah, and I know just how you like being touched.”

“Really?”

“You’re predictable, Denbrough.”

“Then touch m-me.”

Bradley’s smirk grew, “I think I can manage that.”

Bradley straddled Bill’s lap, making sure to grind their crotches together as he settled himself. His hand on Bill’s cheek moved to the red head’s hair, grabbing hold. He teased Bill, bringing their lips inches a part, holding Bill back as his hand on his hip slipped under Bill’s waistband.

Bill whined, the pain and need becoming too great.

Bradley’s hold tightened. “So pretty for me.”

Their lips crashed together.

The rain beat down on the dugout roof above them, covering the sound of their moans.

–

In the cafeteria, Stan looked out the windows at the dark clouds. Rain battered against the windows. It was an ugly day, which perfectly matched Stan’s ugly mood. Bill was out there. Stan knew it. He had thought so in his gut for days, but today had confirmed it because today he had seen Bill darting out into the storm just as the final bell signaling lunch had began. What was he doing out there?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Richie asked.

Stan forced his attention back to the table. Everyone was looking at him. His skin prickled. He hated being the center of attention.

“Hey, Mike. Did you do the physics homework?” Ben asked abruptly pulling the papers from his bag. “I want to check some of my answers.”

Mike smiled and did likewise.

Attention began to shift away from Stan, and he couldn’t help but be grateful. Beverly was pulled into the physics discussion leaving just Eddie and Richie watching Stan.

“It’s nothing.” Stan knew his smile wasn’t convincing, but it was the best he could do.

“C’mon, Stan. You know better than to lie to me,” Richie said softly so the others couldn’t hear.

Stan bit his lip. “I guess I’m worried about Bill. He shouldn’t be out there. Not on a day like this.”

Richie looked to Eddie.

Since seeing the hickies on Bill’s neck three days ago, Richie had confided his concerns to Eddie. Eddie was the only one to know that wherever Bill was right now, chances were he wasn’t alone. Richie’s eyes searched Eddie’s own, needing confirmation that hiding the truth from his best friend was the right thing to do, would cause the least amount of pain. 

Eddie couldn’t answer those questions. All he could do was squeeze Richie’s hand under the table.

Stan’s brow furrowed. “You know something, don’t you.”

Richie shrugged. “Nothing concrete.”

“Now who shouldn’t be lying to whom?” A hint of Stan’s old humor returning.

Richie flushed. Despite what he said, those hickies had seemed pretty concrete. Although they had disappeared under layers of concealer after that first day, it didn’t erase what they meant.

Stan nodded and returned his attention to the ever darkening sky. The expression on his face broke Richie’s heart. Blindly he grabbed for Eddie’s hand, taking solace in the warmth of the connection.

–

The weather remained miserable after school. Ben and Beverly stood under the school’s covered entrance waiting for his mom to pick them up. While most days they walked, Arlene Hanscom had insisted on driving them today. She said no one should be out in weather like this.

Most of the students had departed, leaving just the two of them against the freezing rain.

“Did you hear the forecast for this weekend?” Beverly asked. It had become a code, their way of finding out if there were fights or not. Sunny weather meant they were in the clear. Anything else meant fight night. Beverly had meant to ask Mike or Eddie at lunch, but things had been weird and she had forgotten.

“Sunny.”

Beverly couldn’t help but be relieved, with everything that was going on she couldn’t bear to think of Mike and Bill in the ring.

A car slowed in front of the school. Despite the rain, the passenger window was rolled down, “are you, Ben Hanscom?”

Ben looked intrigued. “That’s me.”

“Your mom sent me, she couldn’t get away from the hospital. Big crash, all hands on deck.” The stranger pronounced mom as mam.

Beverly looked to Ben.

“Password?” Ben asked. It was something Arlene had developed when Ben was younger in case she couldn’t leave work on time and had to send a family friend to pick him up. Luckily they never got into that situation, Arlene had always managed when it came to her son, but Ben was curious to see if his mother remembered.

The man in the car laughed, a surprisingly joyous thing for such a stormy day. “Your mom thought you might ask, it’s darjeeling, by the way.”

Ben couldn’t hide his surprise as he stepped out into the rain. Beverly followed. They hurried into the car, settling into the warm plush seats, finally getting a look at the man who had been speaking. The stranger’s face was weather beaten and ruddy, but there was a bright alertness to his eyes and a warmth to his smile. He was tall. Taller than his car, giving him the slight appearance of being folded in two. His dark red hair, going a bit gray around the edges, brushed the ceiling of the vehicle. Beverly couldn’t help but wonder if the slight bald spot was due to all the rubbing up against car ceilings. Immediately she felt bad for thinking such a thing. 

“Aloysius Nell,” the man said in way of greeting them.

“Do you work with my mom?” Ben asked. Mr. Nell certainly didn’t seem like one of the other nurses or doctors who worked at Derry General.

Nell laughed again, “not exactly. I was a friend of your da’s.”

Ben looked back at Beverly. “You knew my dad?”

“Sure, went to basic training together.”

“You’re not from Derry, are you Mr. Nell?” Beverly asked feeling excitement for the first time in days.

The winking smile returned, “no. I am not from Derry.”

“You’re from DC.”

“Yes, lassie.”

“And you’re here to –”

“I’m just here to dig around to start. Nothing official yet.” Detective Nell said looking at Beverly in the rear view. What these kids had to understand was there was no official capacity for him to be here yet. The state had yet to invite him, or the Federal Bureau of Investigation, in. All he could do now was see if there was even a case, and that was going to be difficult enough without raising suspicions or these kids’ hopes. He watched their expressions fall. Perhaps he had been a bit harsh. “Arlene tells me you two are the best source of piecing this together, so while we drive about why don’t you tell me what you know.”

Beverly started. She explained when the new kids had arrived how she and her father had helped move their belongings in. She tried to describe the sense of loved possessions, but how empty and cold the house felt despite its inhabitants. Although words failed her, Detective Nell had seen enough bad situations to understand, nodding all the while.

Ben talked about finding Eddie buying bandages and foundation at Keene’s pharmacy. He told the story of how the others had finally opened up, explaining the fight rings they had entered, and how they traveled across the country to stay under the radar.

Here Detective Nell showed the first signs of interest, but he waited to ask questions as he didn't want to interrupt their flow. 

Beverly picked up the thread by relating the story of the Hanlon fire. She didn’t know who or what caused it, but they were sure that Mike had been there. She added that arson couldn’t be scrubbed from your record, a tidbit she had picked up on a recent fact finding mission to the library. She then told them about the trustee who may be able to provide more information on the Hanlons. Finally, Beverly informed Detective Nell about how the whole town was dirty. She told the detective that her father was involved. She explained the note Eddie had written and how they needed to follow the money. That was the latest discovery, although they had no ways of doing it seeing as they were only sixteen.

Ben added what they had found out about Robert’s predilections. He said that that was perhaps their greatest motive to hurry.

Dective Nell sat for a moment in silence after they had finished talking. He was looping his way through town, taking his time driving back to Ben’s.

“Where did you say these kids moved from?”

“Chicago, before that I think it was Las Vegas? Or LA?” Stan would know, Beverly thought. Stan had a head for details, although these days there was no saying where his head was at.

“Crosses state lines,” Nell muttered to himself. “That’s good. And this trustee?”

“Richard Halloran,” Ben said. “We think he’s at the Derry Townhouse, although none of us could confirm.”

If their parents knew anything they weren’t telling their kids, which was awfully frustrating.

“Hm,” was all Detective Nell said. His reservation had already been made. Room 330.

The detective made one last arcing turn, before turning onto Ben’s road. “Your parents are right. This is no thing for you children to be involved with.”

Beverly started to protest.

“This isn’t a game, it’s dangerous.”

“We know,” Beverly said.

“We want to help.” Ben’s words overlapped hers.

“This information is help enough,” Detective Nell said. The disappointed looks returned to their faces. Christ. He rubbed a hand over his eyes as he pulled into Ben’s Aunt’s driveway. “Look, I’m not obligated to keep you kids in the loop. In fact, I’m sure your parents would prefer I didn’t, but if I find anything of note I’ll let you know. Just try not to get your hopes up.”

“Thank you, Detective,” Ben said.

Beverly was too upset to speak.

They got out of his car, before Ben turned back, “Detective Nell?”

“Yes?”

“Was there really an accident at the hospital?”

“No, I thought it would be best to talk to you one on one. Your kind mother agreed to the falsehood so as not to raise suspicion.”

Ben nodded, grateful for the honesty. He led Beverly into his Aunt’s house. He could hear his mother moving about her room. From down the hall, loud music pounded from his cousin’s room. As they passed it he asked, “You want to feed Mr. Pibbles?”

Beverly shook her head. While the hamster was cute, it was in no way enough to comfort the frustration and disappointment she felt. She knew that this case was much more than she could handle. Hadn’t she wanted intervention? Some help, sure. But being sidelined? She had never felt so useless.

“Bev?”

She looked at Ben who was watching her with that sweet worried gaze of his.

“Sorry, I just wish we could do more.”

“Any news on your mom?” He tried changing the subject in the hopes of cheering her up.

Beverly shook her head. Another dead end.

–

Detective Nell checked into the Derry Townhouse under the name Richard Bachman, Mrs. Kersh eyeing him all the while, sizing him up. Unknowingly his thoughts followed a very similar pattern to those of Wentworth Tozier. How could she afford to remain open? It was obvious the place was dead, and he doubted that Derry had much of a tourist season based on what he had seen of the little town. He wondered if it was a front. Hadn’t the girl said to follow the money? He thought there might be a good chance that the money led right to the Derry Townhouse. Aloysius Nell figured he was going to need to call in all his favors on this one, and maybe just maybe he would be able to save those kids. Lord have mercy on us all, he thought, rubbing his hand over his eyes. The fate of four lost boys sat heavily in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love on the last chapter, I appreciate you all so much! You are seriously some of the best readers an author could ask for. I adore you!!!  
> I am so curious to hear what you think will happen next! Please leave any predictions below, as well as your thoughts on this chapter. I love reading what y'all have to say. I can't wait for you all to read the next chapter, it will be here sooner than we know! (no hints this time, you'll just have to wait.)  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	19. Chapter 19

On Saturday morning, Stan and Richie were walking to the library. Although the sky was overcast, the air was crisp and there were no signs of rain or humidity. It was the perfect fall day. An uneasy silence hung between the two boys, as Stan was sure Richie was hiding something from him. He didn’t know how to ask Richie about it and get any sort of meaningful answer, so instead he worried his bottom lip with his teeth as he ran outcomes in his head.

Richie remained silent as guilt weighed heavily on his conscious. What good would telling Stan about Bill’s possible paramour do, but sew more grief and hurt between them? Richie was doing what he had always done when it came to Stan. He was protecting him. Or at least that’s what he thought.

With both their heads deep in thought, they didn’t hear the rumbling of the Plymouth Fury until it was too late.

–

Georgie was in Eddie’s room on Saturday morning. He was keeping Eddie company, and doing anything to avoid Robert’s attentions. Georgie was afraid that Robert might try to send the others out on some pretense, trapping him here. So as Eddie sorted through his closet, putting clean laundry away, Georgie sat on the bed trying to read.

Only his attention kept being drawn away by Bill.

Bill was currently standing in the backyard, close to the fence. From anywhere else in the house, the view would have been impossible, but from Eddie’s room Georgie could see that Bill was talking to someone. He didn’t recognize the teen as any of the Losers he had met before, and his curiosity was piqued. The boy was stockier than Bill, he talked a lot with his hands, and the curious thing was Bill seemed interested. He was leaning over the fence getting in the other boy’s space with little regard for what would happen if he got caught. It wasn’t like Bill to be so careless.

Georgie dropped any interest in reading when Bill hopped the fence. In fact he moved to the window as Bill and the other boy started walking away. His view was momentarily blocked by some trees which had been planted along the edge of the property, but when they reappeared there was no mistaking their destination. The gravel pit.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Hmm?” Eddie’s voice echoed strangely from the inside of the closet.

“Do you guys have any new friends?”

Eddie jolted up. He turned to Georgie, dropping his laundry in the process.

“What do you mean?”

“Bill just left with someone. Stocky? Brown hair?”

Eddie hurried to the window. He scanned the back yard, hoping that Georgie was mistaken and Bill and Mike would be there playing catch. Of course he wasn’t. Bill was nowhere to be seen. And Mike? Where was Mike? Eddie felt his breath catch. In the distance he could make out the forms of two boys walking away from Neibolt Street. His heart pounded. This must be the person Richie had told him about. 

“You keep an eye out,” Eddie said, pulling his radio out from beneath his bed. “Radio the Losers should anything come up. I’m going to find Mike.”

Eddie rushed out of the room, leaving Georgie as the only witness of what was to come.

–

When the trunk of the Plymouth Fury opened, Stan found himself blinking against the sudden change of light. Henry stood before him, blocking any chance of escape, with Patrick to his left. They pulled Richie out first, shoving him off to Vic and Belch like he weighted nothing more than a doll. Next they reached for Stan.

Patrick grabbed his forearm and yanked him from the trunk. Stan lurched forward, falling on his knees. Gravel cut painfully into his flesh. Above him he could hear Patrick and Henry laugh. Richie struggled, but Belch’s hold was too tight.

At once Stan recognized where they were. It was the gravel pit out by Neibolt Street. Here the earth met the sky in jagged peaks littered with rocks and garbage from the dump just beyond the rise. Any hope of salvation guttered out.

Another car pulled up, this one was a sleek blue Corvette, which sat low to the ground. The tires kicked up dust causing Richie, who was closest, to begin coughing. From the car stepped Peter Gordon, Marcia Fadden, and a boy Stan didn’t recognize. It was this third boy that gave him the most pause. He was tall, maybe as tall as Patrick, but instead of the sleek trim form he was built solidly of muscle. Stan wouldn’t be surprised if he were almost as heavy as Belch, but his weight would be pure muscle instead of fat.

The stranger’s eyes raked over Stan and Richie with a satisfied smirk.

“Had doubts about this shithole town, Marcy, but you and your friends pulled through,” The stranger said turning to Marcia.

She flipped him the bird. “Whatever, Tommy. You’ve met my boyfriend. This is Vic and Belch, and over there are Henry and Patrick. Boys, meet my cousin, Tommy Rogan.”

“Pleasure.” Tommy’s voice was slick as oil. He came over and knelt before Stan. “And who might you be?”

Stan wouldn’t meet his eye, it was only when Patrick grabbed his jaw and forced him to look Rogan in the eye that he saw the darkness that lay there.

“Speak, faggot,” Henry said.

“Stan Uris,” Stan said struggling to move his jaw against Patrick’s hold.

Tommy reached out running his thumb over Stan’s cheek. From beyond him, Stan could see Richie struggling against Vic and Belch’s hold.

“Don’t touch him,” Richie cried.

Rogan rose, turning on his heel. He walked over to Richie in three wide steps, back handing him across the mouth. Stan tried to stand, but Henry’s hand pushed him further into the gravel causing him to cry out.

“This the boyfriend?” Rogan asked moving into Richie’s space.

“No, he’s still on his way.”

Stan tensed. What did Henry mean by that?

“Hm, pity,” Rgoan said. “I hate waiting.”

Before anything else could be said, another car pulled up. It was shittier than the first two, coughing out exhaust like an unreformed smoker. From it stepped Greta Keene in a tight skirt. Without glancing Stan or Richie’s way, she walked over to where Marcia was leaning on Peter’s Corvette and joined her, popping her gum as she went.

Rogan eyed her with obvious interest, but before he could go over and make his move two other figures crested the rise. Immediately Stan recognized Bill. He wasn’t looking their way yet, hadn’t seen Stan being held on the ground, Richie bound a few feet from him. Whatever the other teen was saying had all of Bill’s attention.

Richie saw Stan’s expression drop like he had been hollowed out. The fight behind his eyes was gone. Richie struggled to see what had changed Stan’s demeanor, and caught a glimpse through his cracked glasses of Bill Denbrough and a stranger approaching. And they were fucking holding hands.

–

Bill’s pace slowed as he took in the scene before him. Three cars parked haphazardly at the edge of the gravel pit. Some of their occupants sat on the hoods of the cars, but others were scattered and appeared to be holding people down.

“B-Bradley, what is this?” Bill asked.

Bradley looked at him apologetically, his grip tightening all the same. “I’m sorry, Bill. It was the only way to pay my debts.”

“D-debts?”

Bill wasn’t given much time to comprehend the word as he pulled down the steep slope into the gravel pit. From here he was able to see who Patrick and Henry held. Stan Uris was kneeling in the gravel, head bowed, not making eye contact with anyone. Even with his back to him, Bill could tell that the figure held across from him was Richie Tozier.

“W-what’s going on?” Bill asked.

Bradley dropped his hand immediately, and a boy Bill didn’t recognize turned to face him.

“You must be the boyfriend.” There was an ugly sneer on his lips as he said it.

“Who are you?” Bill asked, his gaze darting to Stan. He would do anything to get the other boy to acknowledge his presence, but so far nothing.

“Tommy Rogan. And I heard you were quite the fighter,” Rogan said, holding a hand out to Bill. When he didn’t shake it, Rogan dropped it as if it were no skin off his back.

“B-Bowers, what’s going on,” Bill said turning towards Henry.

“Thought we could have a little fun, Stuttering Bill.”

“Fun?”

“Sure. I saw how close you were to beating that fucker in the hall last Monday,” Henry said nodding at Richie. “Thought I’d give you the arena to do it properly.”

“I’m not going to d-d-do that,” Bill said.

“Oh, I think you will,” Henry said. “You see Bill, we have this thing called leverage.”

Patrick pulled a knife from his pocket and held it against Stan’s throat, forcing the teen to look up at Bill. “Would be awful if we had to cut him, wouldn’t it Stuttering B-B-Bill?”

“You wouldn’t,” Bill said. “If you hurt him the Urises w-will press charges.”

Patrick dug the knife against Stan’s throat, but before it could cut Henry raised his hand. Patrick reluctantly pulled back.

“You’re right, Bill. We can’t mark up the goods,” Henry purred. “But perhaps… well these lips look plush. I bet you’ve fantasized about them, haven’t you Bill? Fantasized about doing what you and Bradley having been so busy with only with Stan, right? Maybe had your hand around your cock picturing it was his mouth? Or maybe you fantasized about it when you were with Bradley? I bet you were so horny and desperate that you fantasized about having both of them pleasure you at once.”

“S-shut up!”

Henry laughed. “What do you want to bet, little Stan Uris is a virgin? We could change that, Bill. While he’s sucking Patrick off, I’d be pounding him in the ass. I bet he’d take it up the ass like a champ. Would you like to watch that?”

“You’re sick!” Bill cried.

“Fight the fairy, and we won’t,” Henry countered.

Bill looked around the semi-circle. No aid there. Everyone seemed hungry for blood, just like in the cage.

“Tick tock, Bill. Time’s running out for Stan Uris’ Viriginty.”

Bill looked to Richie. He saw the desperation there, and he knew that Richie would do anything to save Stan from being raped.

“Fine I’ll d-d-do it,” Bill said.

Henry nodded and Vic and Belch released Richie. Vic hesitated before offering an open hand to hold Richie’s glasses for him. Richie passed them over. The fire in his eyes became clearer without the cracked and smudged lenses to block it. Bill recognized the expression as one he had seen on his own face. What had Bradley called it? Avenging. That’s what Richie looked like right now. A true avenging angel.

A loose circle formed around them. Richie stepped forward, hands raised, and Bill couldn’t help but think how wrong this was. They shouldn’t have to do this, but there was no stopping the fact that it would happen. Bill only wished that they could wrap their knuckles. He wished that he had never started talking to Bradley. He wished to go back. He shouldn’t have fought Richie. He shouldn’t have been angry with Stan, because maybe Stan had been right. This mock fight was a product of a little boy trying to take control and be like his father.

Henry stepped forward before they could start, shoving Stan into Patrick’s arms. The other boy lifted him up like he was a rag doll, arms snaking around his middle. Bill was disgusted, and based on how Richie’s fists tightened he probably felt the same.

“Fight until one of you get a KO.” Henry stepped back. “Begin!”

Richie lunged for Bill, but Bill was easily able to avoid the swing. Richie had no training, and it was clear that without the aid of his glasses he couldn’t see. His punches were wide, leaving ample room for Bill to duck. He could hear the others booing, but he tuned it out. He focused on his breathing, and throwing hits that wouldn’t hurt. He had done enough damage. He couldn’t hurt Richie. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

But the bystanders were growing impatient. Belch spat at their feet, releasing a litany of slurs and yelling that his granny could do better. Marcia and Greta’s screams could be heard above the others, their words were surprisingly the most cruel. Beneath it all, Bill could hear Bradley’s lilting laugh. No doubt he was enjoying this.

Bill caught a glimpse of Stan. It was a moment he would never forget. Patrick’s hands were roving over the other boy’s body, his hot breath whispering God knew what into his ear. Bill’s rage seemed to explode then, and without thinking his right hook knocked the air out of Richie.

Richie stumbled back, tripping and falling into the gravel.

The electricity in the air crackled.

Bill looked down disgusted by himself. He held out a hand to help Richie get up. The boy took it gratefully.

“You fucking loser. You’re meant to beat him into the dirt,” Henry said kicking the toe of his boot into the gravel, spraying rocks at the fighters.

“I shouldn’t be f-f-fighting him,” Bill said. “He d-d-doesn’t know anything. It’s not a f-f-fair fight.”

Rogan snorted. “Who said anything about fair?”

Bill turned on him. “I w-wont keep fighting my friend.”

Rogan raised a brow. “Oh yeah? And what about your boy toy? What if we start having our fun with him?”

Bill’s face darkened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Far as I can tell the boys from Derry are pussies. Maybe your little friend would benefit from getting the queer fucked out of him. I’m sure Marcy would be willing to oblige.”

“Dude, watch your mouth,” Peter said.

“Can it, rich boy. My cousin is the whore of the family, and she knows it.”

Marcia wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye.

“So what do you say? You keep on fighting that little punk or your boyfriend gets to get real intimate with my cousin’s cunt.”

Bill looked over to Stan who was shaking in Patrick’s arms. His captor was laughing at his predicament.

“Hell we could make it an orgy,” Tommy continued. “Marcy’ll ride him nice and good while Patrick takes his mouth and Henry his ass. Sounds nice, don’t it.”

“Shut up!” Richie cried. “Just fight me, Bill.”

“N-no. I want a r-r-real fight.” Bill said.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Henry asked.

Bill ignored him. His time with negotiating with Bowers was over. It was clear who was in charge. “I’ll fight you, Rogan. That’s a fair fight.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Richie said. Even without his glasses he could tell that Tommy Rogan must outweigh Bill by a hundred pounds or more.

“You should listen to your friend,” Rogan said.

“You and me. Eight rounds. R-r-raises the stakes,” Bill said, looking over at Peter. “It’s clear you want blood, this is how you g-g-get it.”

Tommy Rogan looked thoughtful at that. Even Peter seemed intrigued by how it would change to odds.

“Bill, no!”

Bill turned at Stan’s voice. He was shaking, tears rolling down his cheeks. Patrick held him, but did nothing to further antagonize him for the moment. Bill wished he could apologize to Stan. Tell him that he had been stupid for writing off his intentions so easily. He wanted to take it all back. His fling with Bradley had been a mistake, a distraction, what mattered was what was between them. And Bill wasn’t going to let any of them touch Stan ever again. He would see to that.

He turned back to Rogan. “D-do we have a d-deal?”

“That can’t be all you want.”

“No. If it’s a good fight, bloody and violent, I want you to let my friends go. And none of you will ever look at them or speak to them again. Is that understood?” Bill asked.

Tommy looked around at the others, they all seemed to wait for his word. “I think that can be arranged, Bowers?”

“Deal.” Henry licked his lips, eager for a real fight.

“Anything else?” Rogan asked.

“That’s it.”

Vic and Belch took custody of Richie once more, pulling him to the opposite side of the circle. As they did so, Tommy Rogan stripped out of his shirt revealing miles of bronzed flesh and muscle. Henry stepped forward, parroting the speech Dunning usually gave and with a wave of his arm the match began.

Bill was lighter on his feet. He knew that just one hit from Rogan could knock him down, so he was careful to avoid the other teen’s punches. But too much avoidance would cause trouble for Stan and Richie, so Bill forced himself to enter Rogan’s zone.

Rogan struck with his knee, aiming straight for Bill’s liver.

The wind was knocked out of him, and the jab he had aimed for Rogan’s side missed. He could hear the other teens cheering as Bill was forced to dodge another hit and had to retreat. Tommy Rogan followed up on his lead throwing a series of jabs and punches that Bill had no choice but to take. He tried to tighten his muscles between the shots, but it did little to help. The gravel slid under his feet and Bill was sure he was going to go down.

He dropped his head and charged Rogan, hoping to get a few moments of reprieve, but the bigger teen began beating against his shoulders. Bill could feel the heat under his skin as the muscles there were pummeled. He had no choice but to try and retreat.

Shortly after that incident, Henry called a break. It was clear he wasn’t watching any sort of clock closely, just going off of instinct from being in the ring.

Breathing was beginning to become difficult for Bill, whereas Rogan had barely broken a sweat. In fact he was using his minute to chat to Greta, who over the course of the fight had become significantly more interested.

Bill had barely begun to regain feeling in his arms when Henry called them back. It was clear that Bowers was enjoying his control of the moment.

The two teens entered the makeshift ring once more.

It was obvious that Rogan had begun to show off. He followed Bill, landing hit after hit on Bill’s ribs and shoulders. The ache there screamed through Bill’s body, and he had trouble focusing on little else.

Tommy Rogan aimed a punch at Bill’s throat, missing it by mere inches. Even so the boy was still knocked back. He wavered on his feet before seeming to find his balance. Tommy had to admit he was surprised by the other teen’s tenacity, it only made him want to stomp him out all the more.

Stan screamed as he watched Bill waver. He struggled against Patrick’s hold, not knowing what he would do if he broke free, but needing to try all the same. Patrick’s grip just tightened around his waist.

Henry watched all of this with hungry interest. He had never gotten to be out of the ring. He had been training in it since he was a boy. But this. This was power. The high he felt rushing through his system was even better than the one when he beating an opponents’ head into the dirt. He had never gotten hard during a fight, but watching Tommy Rogan beat the life out of Bill hit by hit was doing something to him. At long last, Henry Bowers understood his father’s desire for violence. He knew why his father had started his training even when he had sobbed and begged to be released. It had all been for this. Henry was drunk on the feeling. He never wanted it to stop.

“He’s killing him,” Vic said.

This startled Henry from his reverie.

“Don’t you think you should call it?”

Henry turned on Vic ready to tell him just what he thought of that idea, but he had to admit Bill didn’t look so good. Henry wanted this to last, it couldn’t be over yet. So instead of saying anything to Vic another break was called.

Bill was panting, dripping in sweat. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could avoid Rogan. Already his thoughts were starting to swim in and out of focus. The ache in his shoulders had finally stopped, but all feeling there was lost. The numbness which set in worried Bill more than any bruise or ache he had had. He was dying. He was sure of it.

As he tried to get his lungs to fill with air, Bill looked to where Stan was standing. His eyes were wide with horror. Bill couldn’t help but think that this is what he feared all along. Stan was seeing the real side of Bill. The damaged side that was unclean and irredeemable. It had happened. The one thing Bill believed in had stopped believing in him.

Henry caught Bill staring at Stan. He grabbed at his crouch simulating some sort of sexual act. Hatred roared in Bill’s ears, but it did little good. Rogan was going to kill him this next round. He had to admit he was impressed with how long he had lasted, but the victory was never going to be his.

Henry called them back.

The final round had begun.

Bill raised his arms, not feeling anything, and prepared for the fight of his life.

The first flurry of blows was relentless. Bill barely had time to get his arms up, before Rogan was beating them down. The punches came to his ribs, his chest, his arms and his shoulders. One went wrong, smashing against his jaw. Bill was forced back.

Rogan followed. He aimed a right hook behind the ear and followed it with a powerful left jab. Bill coughed up blood. All he could hear was an irritating drone, and just beyond that someone was sobbing. Bill tried to straighten up, but was kneed once more in the stomach. There was nowhere left to retreat. Bill raised his arm. He threw a crown punch, and missed. His coughing was getting worse now. The drone was louder. And the numbness in his shoulders made him feel like he was carrying around lead. All his actions felt like they were underwater. Bill tried to blink away the haze. He kept blinking willing his vision to clear, but no luck.

The blitzkrieg attacks started up once more. Bill had no choice but to duck his head and hold his arms up in defense. It wouldn’t be much longer now. What brought him down was a punch to his already aching ribs.

The sharp gravel pierced through his shirt, exacerbating the white hot pain in his back. He tried to curl up, but as Rogan climbed over him and Bill knew it would do little good.

He heard Stan crying, begging for it to stop. And then there was a sharp pop, and all the noise died away.

His thoughts were spiraling now, moving so quickly he could barely register them. He thought he saw his mother, smiling up from her bench at the piano one hand out stretched –

– Georgie racing along the beach kicking up sand and scaring seagulls –

– the drive to Derry, with the trees racing –

– racing by –

– his bike, leaning precariously against the side of their Brooklyn townhouse – what had happened to it after he moved? – 

– racing down Pine Avenue, the wind rushing up – 

– his thoughts –

– Stan Uris standing by his locker watching as he, Eddie and Mike approached on that first day of school – 

Running like a current beneath his thoughts was the sound of sirens. The hits stopped. One last thought shone through the darkness.

Hotspur.

Achilles.

He had gotten his revenge. He had protected that which he loved. Hadn’t he? 

_The rest is silence._

–

Georgie had seen the beginning of the fight between Richie and Bill. He had watched as the two skirted around one another, although from here they looked more like ants than men.

The radio was heavy in his hand. He waited for Eddie to burst in with Mike, for them to handle it to take care of things, but Eddie never came. And as the minutes ticked on, the pantomime grew worse and worse.

Now Bill was facing someone twice his size. This person, whoever it was, didn’t fight like Henry or Patrick. Georgie didn’t know how he knew it, but he did. He fumbled with the radio, yanking the antenna out hard. He worried he had broken it, but there was no time to worry. He pressed down on the talk button and he prayed someone was there.

“This is Georgie Denbrough, over.”

Nothing.

“This is Georgie Denbrough. There’s an emergency at the gravel pit, if you can hear me you must call 911. Over.”

Georgie couldn’t take his eyes off the pit. It was so hard to see what was going on, but Bill was flagging. After his injuries from last week, Georgie wasn’t sure how much longer Bill would last.

“Help me, please. Someone help!”

“Georgie?”

“Beverly?”

“Yeah, kiddo. What’s going on?”

“There’s a fight in the gravel pit. Please you have to call 911. Bill is in trouble. No one else is here, please you have to help me.”

“Okay. I will,” Beverly said. “You said there’s a fight at the gravel pit?”

“Yes! And they need to send an ambulance. They’re killing him. Beverly please!” 

“Alright, I’m going to get off the radio to call the police,” Beverly said.

She was gone. Georgie didn’t expect the loneliness and fear to creep back so quickly, but it sat heavily on his body like a second skin.

Minutes later, although to Georgie it felt like hours, Beverly returned. “Georgie. Are you there?”

He nodded before realizing that that would do her no good. “I’m here.”

“Good. Can you get out of the house?” Beverly asked.

For the first time since this morning Georgie remembered his fear of Robert. He wondered if Robert had heard him. The house settled around him, and suddenly Georgie was very afraid.

“I don’t know.” This was quieter than anything else he had said.

“I need you to try,” Beverly said. “I’m on my way to Neibolt Street. Ben is out looking for Eddie and Mike. Do you know where they are?”

“No.”

“Okay, I tried to get a hold of Stan and Richie, but I don’t know where they are. Maybe the library. I’m almost there Georgie. Can you meet me out front?”

As much as Georgie wanted to leave this house, he couldn’t bear to leave his perch. He had to keep an eye on Bill. Bill was all he had left.

Georgie watched Bill fall. He couldn’t stop the scream which followed. Tears streamed down Georgie’s cheeks. Why wasn’t Bill getting up? He had to get up. He had to.

It was only later that Georgie would realize that he had said this all out loud.

In the distance he could hear sirens. Georgie watched the cars in the gravel pit speed away, leaving nothing but three figures. Bill remained on the ground, and from this distance it didn’t look like he was moving. Another figure crawled over to him, pulling his head out of the gravel, resting it in his lap, head turned to watch for the ambulance. The third figure stood watch over them, and only when Georgie was sure that everything would be alright, did he race down the stairs.

His attention was so focused on the front door, he knew Beverly must be just beyond it, that he didn’t see Robert until he stepped out of the alcove that led to his office.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Robert asked. “And what do you have in your hand?”

Georgie looked down to see that he was still holding the radio. He looked up at Mr. Gray and had never felt so afraid.


	20. Chapter 20

Stan had never been so relieved to see the flashing lights of an ambulance. Bill’s head was cradled in his lap, his fingers tracing over the bruised and bloodied skull gently probing for what he didn’t know. Bill’s hair was sticky with blood, pieces of gravel were embedded into his skin and clothes, his breathing was coming in uneven bursts, and Stan feared that there had been permanent damage done.

Already bruises were blooming across his jaw and ribs. Stan wished he could wash them away. He wanted to take away all of Bill’s pain if he could. He wondered if all fights were this brutal. How had Bill managed to stay alive for so long if they were? Distantly he heard Richie talking softly on the phone; Stan guessed it was Wentworth on the other end.

The police arrived first. They threw questions at Richie and Stan, and although they were able to answer them perfectly, the police seemed unhappy with all their answers. It was probably because they didn’t like to hear about the sheriff’s son getting involved in such things, but Richie didn’t give a damn. Someone had almost died. He tried to make the cops see that.

The ambulance arrived next.

Stan was reluctant to have Bill taken away from them, but a pretty EMT assured him that it would be alright now, and that Stan could come see Bill at the hospital.

Maggie and Wentworth came last. Wentworth stood by Richie as he retold his story for the third time, assuring the cops that his son was not one to make up this sort of thing. Maggie picked her way through the gravel coming to Stan.

She helped him up from his knees. Gravel stuck to places on his khakis, and when it appeared that Stan didn’t notice she brushed them off for him.

“Stan, honey? Went told me what they did to you, how are you holding up?”

Stan, eyes seeing nothing but the disappearing lights of the ambulance, tried to focus on her. “I’m –” his voice broke.

Maggie pulled him into her arms. The embrace was nothing like Patrick’s. Instead of being restrictive and chocking, Stan was instantly comforted. “Your parents are going to meet us at the hospital once the police clear you. They’re already there waiting for Bill.”

A sense of gratitude flooded through Stan immediately. Bill wouldn’t be alone. Someone would be there to look out for him. 

“Thank you.” He said stepping away.

“Of course, sugar.”

The police turned their attention to Stan, questioning him once more. And not once through their line of questioning did Maggie let Stan go. She kept a hand on his shoulder, grounding him in the moment.

By the time Richie and Stan were able to get to the hospital, Ben, Beverly, Eddie and Mike had already arrived. They were sitting in the waiting room along with the Urises. Upon seeing their son, Andrea and Don rose and wrapped him in a hug. Stan sobbed in the embrace. There was no need for empty promises, this was enough.

Before anything could be said, the doors to the floor opened and Robert Gray strode in, pulling Georgie in behind him. To anyone else it looked as if the small boy was cowering with worry for his brother and Robert’s touch was merely to keep him upright, but the Losers knew better.

Robert went straight to the nurses station to ask for updates, allowing for Eddie and Mike to sneak away from the group.

It was clear that Robert was upset, his tone rising as he asked for news on his son. The other adults looked uneasily at one another. The nurse assured Robert to let him know what they could once the knew more, and requested that he go sit down.

Robert turned on his heel and came face to face with the group taking up the majority of the waiting room. Mike and Eddie were sitting in the corner not looking at anyone, he moved to be with them.

“Has anyone told you boys what has happened?” Robert asked.

“Eddie did, he came to get me so that we could be here,” Mike said.

Robert pursed his lips, the picture of concern. “And why didn’t you think to let me know?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Eddie replied.

“What was that?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

Robert frowned. “I see. Well I’m glad Georgie had the good sense to come and get me. I can’t imagine what Bill was doing there, or who would want to do this to him.”

Eddie ducked his head in the hopes to hide his tears. He had never been so angry or frightened before in his life. He needed Bill to pull through, he had to. They couldn’t do this without him.

“Oh, Eddie.”

He felt Robert pull his chin up, meeting him eye to eye. Snot ran down from his nose, and he wanted more than anything to wipe it away with a tissue, but Robert wouldn’t allow it.

“You always have had such a bleeding heart.”

Robert pulled his godson into an embrace. The perfect picture of comfort.

Mike took the moment to look over to where the others were sitting. He was grateful that the two fathers were preventing the children from staring. If Robert became the slightest bit suspicious of them everything could go wrong. He looked away before any of them felt his eyes on them.

“Mike?”

He looked over to Georgie, fat tears sat heavily in his eyes, the trail of ones already fallen stained his cheek.

“Come here, kiddo,” Mike said. He pulled Georgie onto to his lap holding the smaller boy.

Georgie began to sob into his shoulder, his body shaking.

Mike wouldn’t make any promises he couldn’t keep, and instead he soothed the boy as best he could. He didn’t know how long they sat like that – the minutes ticking by slowly, his leg going numb under Georgie’s weight – but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. Whatever this was was better than where Bill was right now. Before Robert had arrived, when Eddie and Mike were waiting with the Urises for the others to come the nurses had mentioned that Bill had been rushed into surgery. There hadn’t been any updates after that. Mike could just hope that Bill would be alright. He wasn’t sure what Georgie would do without him… what any of them would do without him.

Arlene watched all this from the nurses’ station wishing she could get those boys away from Robert for good.

One of her coworkers must have caught her watching because she said, “aren’t they cute? Mr. Gray is such a good father to those poor boys. It’s just a shame they haven’t got a mother.”

Arlene’s fingers clenched around the pen she was holding. She forced a smile, “indeed.”

Before conversation could continue, Arlene caught sight of Bill’s doctor. She hurried over to the other woman to get an update and assure the doctor that she would talk to the Urises, as she was sure the doctor was very busy. She did this so that Mr. Gray wouldn’t know that the large party was also awaiting news on Bill, and so that Doctor Cho didn’t mistakenly go to the Urises before going to Mr. Gray. Luckily Doctor Cho was too distracted to be worried about Arlene’s intentions. The doctor conferred with her softly in the hall, before going to give Mr. Gray the news.

Arlene walked like a ghost to where the Losers were sitting. She wished she wasn’t the one who had to break the news. In her peripheral she saw Doctor Cho talking to Robert. She forced herself to focus.

“Mom?” Ben asked. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. He just got out of surgery. No complications. Our patient is lucky. There was a lot of internal bleeding, but we were able to stop it. He does have a concussion as well as bruised ribs. He’s lucky his nose isn’t broken. So long as he gets to rest these next few weeks he should make a full recovery. Of course we want to keep him in for a few days for observation.” 

“Do you think he will be okay with that?” Andrea asked nodding ever so slightly at Robert.

“He doesn’t have much choice,” Arlene said. “There is no way the hospital would discharge him in the state he’s in. If father wants to maintain his cover he will have to allow his son to stay.”

“What about visitors?” Beverly asked.

“Even if our patient were conscious right now, it wouldn’t be smart of you to visit him with his father sniffing around. But in the next day or so I think it’ll be safer,” Arlene said, her eyes darted to where Georgie was watching Doctor Cho with big eyes, a serious expression on his face. “I better head back to the nurses’ station. I recommend that you don’t stay too much longer. Leave one by one, or in groups.”

“Thank you, Arlene,” Maggie said, reaching out to grab Arlene's hand.

Arlene seemed surprised at the touch, a blush spreading across her cheeks all the same. She shot one last look to where Doctor Cho was explaining the further testing they wanted to do, before scurrying back to her desk.

–

Robert took in the news with a vague fury boiling just below the surface. What in God’s name had lured Bill to that gravel pit? What had he been trying? He tried to listen to the pretty doctor, but his gaze dropped to the three boys huddled around him, each soaking up the news like their lives depended upon it.

Punishments were in order, Robert knew that. But there was no way he could hurt Bill, not surrounded as he was in the hospital. But he would have to do something to show the boy who was still in charge. His eye fell to Georgie, and though he was loathe to do anything to the boy, Bill had forced his hand. Georgie had to be punished for his older brother’s insurrection. And as the doctor droned on Robert began to envision his plan.

–

Beverly and Ben were the first to leave. There was nothing more to be done here, and as much as Beverly hated to go she didn’t dare put the others in any greater risk. She just hoped that Robert hadn’t found Georgie with the radio. God, not that.

The Urises left next. Stan hadn’t spoken since talking to the police officers, and even that had been in a dull tone. Don and Andrea were anxious to get him home and in bed. He had gone through enough.

Richie’s family left last. As they went to leave he shot one last look to Eddie, the smaller boy was slumped on Mike’s shoulder fast asleep. Mike, still holding Georgie, looked up at Richie. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before darting away. Richie wished that none of this had happened. He hated Henry and Rogan for that which they had put Stan through. And despite his previous anger at Bill, he couldn’t help but worry. The only comfort was that so long as he was in the hospital he would be safe, Richie just wished it were true of the other boys. More than ever he needed them to be okay. Hopefully, Eddie would be able to radio him tonight with an update.

–

Bill still hadn’t woken up when visiting hours had ended. By the time he did, he was aware that something was wrong. It wasn’t the vague aches coming from his body, or the pounding headache, but the way he couldn’t identify where the beeping of the machine was coming from. It was the loud hum of the lights, louder than they should be.

“W-where am I?” His voice sounded strange. The last thing he could remember was lying in the gravel, Tommy Rogan beating into him. After that it was all gone.

He struggled to get up, and found that he couldn’t. The beeping increased, and a nurse hurried in.

“Where am I?” He asked again.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re in the hospital. You took quite the beating,” the nurse said with a weak smile. She checked the IV before resettling him into the bed.

He stared at her dumbly. “C-can you say that again?”

“I said you’re in the hospital –”

“I think there’s something wrong w-with my hearing,” Bill said, panic began welling up in him. He had gotten cases of tinnitus from fights before, but none had lasted so long. And this didn’t feel like any tinnitus he had had before.

Concern crossed the nurse’s face. “I’ll go get the doctor.”

“W-wait. Are – is my family here?”

“No they went home hours ago.” The nurse’s expression softened, “your brothers must really love you. They were pretty upset by all of this, understandably. Now I better go get your doc.”

A few minutes later the nurse returned with a doctor. Bill was surprised by how young she seemed.

“Hello Mr. Denbrough, I’m your doctor, Vivian Cho. Aida says there might be something wrong with you’re hearing. Mind if I take a look?”

Bill nodded.

Doctor Cho held up a device which shone a light into his ears while allowing her to look in them. Her hands moved gently turning his head first one way, then the next. “It would appear you have a ruptured eardrum.”

“Is the h-hearing loss permanent?” Bill asked.

Doctor Cho looked alarmed. “You can’t hear at all out of your left?”

Bill shook his head. The action left him feeling dizzy.

“Aida, see if we can get him a tuning fork evaluation tomorrow.”

Aida nodded, scurrying away to put it into the computer. Doctor Cho turned back to Bill with a tired smile, “I don’t know if it’s permanent. Punctured ear drums usually heal on their own, and hearing typically returns. However, it does depend on what was damaged. That’s what the tuning fork evaluation should help us find out.”

“O-okay.”

“While I’m here, do you have any questions for me?”

“H-how bad was it?”

If Doctor Cho was surprised by how at ease Bill was with all this, she hid it well. “You have a concussion. It looks to be a few weeks old. Did you not notice it?”

“N-no.”

Doctor Cho nodded. “A bit surprising, but it seems to be healing alright on its own, so nothing to worry about. You have some pretty serious bruising to your ribs and shoulders. And there was some internal bleeding in the abdominal cavity, but we were able to take care of that in surgery.”

Bill was alarmed. “S-surgery?”

“Yes. How much do you remember?”

Bill shrugged.

Doctor Cho’s smile grew sad. “I hate to think about what happened to you out there. The police are going to want to question you some more, I told them it would have to wait until you were a bit better, but they’re going to want a statement.”

“How long am I staying here?”

“A few days at the least. We’ll see how some of tomorrow’s test go. Now you should get some rest,” Doctor Cho said, turning to go.

“D-Doctor Cho?”

“Hm?”

“The police, did they question the others?”

“I believe so.”

“Does my d-dad know about them?” Bill struggled over the word.

Doctor Cho turned back a curious expression on her face. “No, I didn’t get the impression he did.”

Bill went to nod, but remembering how it left him feeling he settled for a soft okay.

“Get some sleep, Bill. If you need anything just call for the nurses. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Doctor Cho turned off the overhead lights before closing the door to his room. As she walked away she couldn’t help but shiver remembering the dead way Mr. Gray had listened to her explain the injuries. It was as if Bill had already died.

Bill did his best to get comfortable in his bed, turning his head so he could look out the window. With his good ear on the pillow it was like the world had gone quiet. He stared at the bright lights of the hospital parking lot below and hoped that the others were okay. He drifted off thinking about Stan. He wanted nothing more than for things to be alright between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brings us over the word count of Come My Way. I am so in awe of how many of you have decided to stick with this fic. Thank you all for your love and support. I am so honored to have you along for the ride.  
> I really do apologize for last chapter. It appears that I have a penchant for putting Bill Denbrough into hospitals. Hopefully this chapter eased some of your stress? Or maybe not? Feel free to let it all go in the comments! I want to hear your impressions of what's happened and what's to come.  
> I'm afraid the next chapter will be unpleasant, but after that things will start getting better. We're over the hump, and the conclusion is coming.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	21. Chapter 21

By the time Robert and the children arrived back at Neibolt Street, whatever thin veneer of patience he had been able to produce at the hospital had worn out.

“To your rooms. Now,” he said.

Afraid of what might happen next each boy walked up the crooked staircase to their rooms. Robert following them. As each of them entered their own rooms, they could hear the door shut behind them, the key turning in the lock. However, when Robert came to Mike’s room he didn’t shut the door, but leaned on the jamb and asked him to follow him to his office.

Once they were settled, Robert behind his large desk, Mike before him, Robert asked, “how did you know to be at the hospital?”

“Eddie came and got me.”

“And how did he know?”

“He saw it all out of his window, heard the ambulance, and put two and two together.”

“And the groceries?”

Mike was thrown by the change in conversation. “What?”

“I sent you out this morning to get groceries. What happened to them?”

“It didn’t seem important in light of–”

Robert held up his hand. “That isn’t the answer I am looking for. What happened to the money?”

Mike pulled the cash from his pocket and placed it in Robert’s hand.

Robert counted it before placing it in the top drawer of his desk. “I don’t suppose you thought to put the groceries aside?”

“No –”

Robert made a noise of disgust. Wasted time. Now someone would have to go to the store tomorrow, and do it all over again. He leaned forward on his desk, the shadows which played across his face were ghastly. “And the radio?” 

“Radio?”

“Georgie had it when he came to find me.” Robert laced his fingers together.

“Eddie must have left it with him,” Mike said, he could feel the his shirt beginning to stick to his back. He refused the urge to fiddle. What he said next mattered, he couldn’t show any weaknesses.

“Why?”

“So that he could radio us if things got worse,” Mike said.

“So Eddie has a second radio?” Robert asked. “I didn’t see it at the hospital.”

“It must have been in his fannypack,” Mike said.

“Must have?”

“I’m not sure, sir. After everything that happened I didn’t manage to keep track of it.”

Robert frowned, leaning back in his seat. “I wish I had known about this radio.”

Mike ducked his head.

“But I suppose it was good in such cases of emergency. What’s its range, do you know?”

“Not very far,” Mike said. “Although we’ve never tested it outside of the house.”

Robert nodded. “I shall escort you back to your room, and you better pray that Eddie’s story matches your own.”

Mike did his best not to appear frightened. He walked back to his room. The lock clicked behind him. Now all he could do was wait.

–

Eddie jumped when he heard the key turn in the lock. He hadn’t moved from the window since returning, hadn’t stopped about what had happened outside of it just hours earlier, and now he wasn’t sure what he faced.

“Come to my office, Edward,” Robert said, already walking away.

Eddie took a hit of his inhaler before following Robert down into the gloom. The entire first floor was dark, save the light coming from Robert’s office. To Eddie it looked like hellfire.

“Have a seat.”

Eddie sat at the edge of the chair, his fingers toying with the smooth plastic of the inhaler.

“Tell me what happened this afternoon.”

The words fell from Eddie’s lips. Georgie had noticed it first, calling Eddie’s attention to it. Bill had been lured to the gravel pit, and had been drawn out into a fight.

“And you don’t know why he left the backyard?”

Eddie shook his head. “I didn’t see that part.”

“Was he with anyone?”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“It’s your lungs that don’t work, not your eyes. Was he with anyone?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Robert pounded his hand on the desk, the noise startling Eddie. “Fuck, you’re as useless as your mother.”

Eddie began shaking. He couldn’t help it. All he had ever wanted, for better or worse, was this man’s approval.

“Tell me about the radio.”

“What about it?”

“You left Georgie with it, why?”

Eddie had to think quickly. He couldn’t tell Robert about the Losers. He had to protect them, and their families. So why else would Georgie have the radio?

“Edward, why did you leave Georgie with the radio?”

“So he could contact me if things got worse,” Eddie said.

“You know I don’t permit you to have such things.”

Eddie’s head dropped.

“Fetch it for me.”

“Huh?”

“I have its mate, I’d like to keep the both of them locked up for the time being. Go get it, Eddie. And straight back here. I’ll know if you try and talk to Mike or Georgie. GO!”

Eddie jumped from his seat and ran to his room. He began tearing through what meager belongings he had. It had to be here. The other radio had broken ages ago, somewhere in the move from Las Vegas to Chicago, but Eddie had kept it. He had always been sort of liked squirreling things away, sure that he could use things for its parts to give it new life. It had to be here. It had to. He found it wedged in the back of his closet. He could just pray Robert didn’t test to see if it worked. He ran back downstairs.

Robert was drumming his fingers on his desk, humming as if he had not just frightened his godson. He looked up at Eddie’s entrance.

“Good boy.”

Eddie’s skin prickled at the praise.

Robert took the little radio from Eddie and unlocked the small drawer which lay beneath the desk’s surface he placed it within before locking it up again.

“One last thing, before you go. The police spoke to me before I arrived at the hospital. They said two other boys were at the gravel pit. Richard Tozier and Stanley Uris. Do you know them?”

“They go to school with us, but I don’t know them.” Eddie’s heart hammered in his chest.

“These boys state that it was Henry Bowers and Patrick Hockstetter who hosted today’s festivities. Do you believe that to be true?”

Eddie shrugged. “It was hard to see what was going on. I couldn’t tell who it was.”

“Good. I told them we won’t be pressing charges. Boys will be boys. Who’s to say these other two can be trusted? If the police come again and ask you what you saw, you’ll say you don’t know who the assailants were. Understood?”

“What about Bill?”

“Leave me to deal with Bill.”

Eddie nodded, before returning to his own room. Once the door was locked he fell onto his bed, burying his head under his pillow. Hearing Richie’s name come from Robert’s lips had felt wrong. It had frightened hims in ways he didn’t know that he could still be frightened. He bit his lip against the sobs which spilled out from him and wished for the comfort of Richie’s voice. He fell into a tentative sleep, which was only interrupted when the screams began.

–

Robert opened the door of Bill and Georgie’s room, and found the little boy curled up in his brother’s bed.

“Georgie, I have some questions for you.”

Georgie rolled over, his eyes were red and his nose was wet. In Robert’s eyes he had never looked so handsome. It was just like when he first arrived. Heat bloomed in Robert’s chest. He pushed it down, now was not the time to get distracted by such base feelings as lust.

“Come to my office,” Robert said with the gentleness of a predator stalking its prey.

Georgie followed Robert down.

He sat across from Robert, the old Queen Anne’s chair swallowing him up in the dim light.

“I already had you tell me what you saw. What I want to know is why you had the radio. You refused to answer before, and I punished you for that. Remember? Bent you over my knee and spanked you raw. So I’ll ask you again: why did you have it?”

“So I could get help while Eddie was gone,” Georgie said.

“Help from who?” Robert asked again. Whereas before Georgie hadn’t wanted to answer this question, Robert now knew who was protecting. “Eddie already told me he had the sister to your radio. You can’t protect him.”

Georgie’s head shot up, the fear in his eyes was evident. “Eddie?”

“Yes. He already handed it over, it’s no good trying to protect him.”

Georgie nodded. “It was just so I could tell him if it got worse. I promise I wasn’t going to try anything –”

“Like Chicago.” Finished Robert.

Georgie’s head dropped again.

“I am sure you wouldn’t try such a thing again. You’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?”

Georgie nodded.

“Look at me.”

The boy raised his head.

“Your brother has behaved very foolishly tonight. Because of it he has put us all at risk. He didn’t think of the consequences.”

Georgie’s eyes seemed to grow bigger in the dark. “Consequences?”

“Yes. I can’t punish him right now. He is in much too fragile a state. But I can punish you.”

“No – please –”

“Begging won’t do any good. I have already made up my mind. Bill must learn from his mistakes and the only way to convince him of his errors is to punish you.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“You’re to sleep in the attic until I deem fit. You will spend all your time up there when you are not in school. Supper will consist only of bread and water. And if I catch you trying to talk to the others I will beat you within inches of your life that you will wish it were you in that hospital bed. Is that understood?” As Robert spoke he had risen from his chair, and walked about his desk, so that he could lean on it just before the terrified boy.

Georgie began to shake. “Please, Robert –”

Robert slapped him across the face. “You are not to call me that. We are not equals.”

Georgie was sobbing now. “I can’t – please don’t make me, please!”

“It’s not my fault, Georgie. Billy is forcing me to, I hope you see that.”

“Please, don’t make me, please!” Georgie’s tone rose with each word.

With ease Robert plucked the boy out of his chair and began to carry him upstairs. Georgie kicked and pushed, trying to get out of Robert’s embrace, but it was like a flea biting a dog. Robert took no notice of it.

He screamed for help, begging not to be locked in the attic. Robert could hear Mike stirring behind his door, but he didn’t worry about Mike interfering this time as the locks had been reinforced before they moved in.

With one arm, Robert pulled the hatch open, the ladder to the attic coming down with it. He climbed it with ease despite Georgie trying to grasp anything which might keep him from the darkened third story.

Robert deposited Georgie on a mildewy and stained mattress, pressing him down. “While you’re up here, think what you want to say to your dear big brother.”

As Robert turned to go, Georgie wrapped himself around Robert’s leg. “Please don’t leave me up here. I’ll do anything!”

Robert eyed him. “You’re pathetic.”

He kicked Georgie in the side and descended the ladder. He shut the hatch before Georgie could follow. He heard the banging and sobbing, but it did nothing to move him. Robert would have loved to take Georgie up on his offer, but Bill had ruined everything. Selfish, stupid, child. Robert couldn’t afford one misstep now, not when the doctors had already expressed concern about what had happened. The police could be bought off, but if the doctors went to social services he would be screwed. So while he knew taking Georgie’s virginity would be a wonderful way to punish Bill for his disobedience, it was too risky now. Everything had been ruined.

Robert seethed. He couldn’t wait until Bill was out of the prying eyes of the hospital, he would show the boy who was in charge. He would make sure Bill never forgot it.

–

Georgie shoved over a pile of boxes, papers flew across the floor, dust danced in what little light came through the round window set in the peaked roof. He screamed again, promising to be good, begging to be let out, but the house remained silent. It was the silence that frightened him most of all. Already feeling a little guilty, Georgie began to pick up the papers. It was clear that they had belonged to whoever had lived here previously. Abandoned up here, just like him. He shoved them into the box, a fresh wave of tears coming, before turning back to the old mattress.

In the weak light he could see a dark stain, as well as places where the springs were poking through. There was no blanket or pillow, and the longer he looked at it the more convinced he became that the stain was blood.

Georgie shivered.

It was cold in the attic. There was no heat up here, and the nights were only bound to get colder. Georgie longed for his brother. He tried to curl up on the hard wood, but after trying to get comfortable he realized his only choice was the mattress. He managed to flip it over, clouds of dust rose up around him. This side wasn’t so bad.

He laid gingerly on his side, the musty smell overwhelming his senses. In the dark gloom he could just make out the opposite wall. Crawling across the wood was a large black spider, its legs articulated madly, carrying its plump body down the wall towards the floor. 

Georgie stifled a scream.

The spider continued its exploratory walk, moving closer and closer to the old mattress. Georgie drew his legs underneath himself, and watched with a horrified fascination as the spider picked its way across the mountains and valleys of the mattress where his feet had been only moments before.

He didn’t let out his breath until the spider had crossed the mattress and made it to the other side of the attic. It disappeared into the gloom, but not seeing it and knowing it was still out hunting was somehow worse than watching it move across the mattress. Georgie turned over, determined to stay up all night if he had to in order to catch the spider coming towards him; however, as little boys are want to do he fell into a restless sleep full of dark dreams and haunting creatures which could only be dispelled by a mother’s touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been awhile, but I am back to regular Friday updates through the rest of October and November.  
> Thank you for your patience! I appreciate you all so much. Leave a comment below and let me know your thoughts!  
> YRS.  
> TWoW
> 
> Next Chapter: will I finally make up for all the heartache I put you through? Maybe.


	22. Chapter 22

Before class on Monday, Stan knocked on Jake Epping’s office door.

“Come in!” The voice rung out, surprisingly cheery for so early at the start of the week, but that was Epping’s way.

Stan shuffled in.

“Good morning, Mr. Epping. Do you have a moment?”

Jake Epping took one look at Stan and decided that even if he hadn’t, he would give Stan as much time as he needed. “Of course, Stan. Please have a seat. Don’t mind the books.”

Stan carefully placed the haphazard stack of books on the floor before sitting in the chair opposite his teacher.

“I’m sure you heard what happened this weekend,” Stan said in a fragile tone.

“Yes.”

The teachers had all received an email about what had occurred at the gravel pit on Saturday morning, and while it didn’t look like the law was doing much about it, Principal Johns had suspended the tormentors: Marcia, Greta, and Peter for the week; Henry, Vic, Belch, and Patrick for two. As the extent of Bradley Donovan’s involvement was as of yet unclear, Principal Johns could do nothing about it without inciting his parents’ fury. And since Tommy Rogan was not from Derry he received no punishment at all.

It wasn’t much, especially in the light of the police so blatantly ignoring the issue, but it was something. The lack of police involvement was all Sadie had wanted to talk about on Sunday, and Epping had happily indulged her.

“I was wondering if you could give me some of Bill’s assignments, I want to take them to the hospital. So he doesn’t get behind.”

“Stan, Bill should focus on healing –”

“No!”

It was clear that Mr. Epping was taken aback by Stan’s tone.

He tried again. “Please, I need a reason to go visit.”

“I’m sure –”

“You don’t understand.” Stan stood about to leave.

“Then explain it to me,” Jake Epping said with patience. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Stan looked at his teacher, the kind concern on his face was not just for Bill but for him. He sat, glancing at the clock on the wall before beginning to explain.

“Bill’s adoptive father, Mr. Gray, doesn’t know that Bill and the others have friends. I need a reason to go to the hospital. In case anyone asks I’d just be another student delivering work. But I have to go. I have to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” Mr. Epping asked, it was clear that he was struggling to keep up with everything Stan was saying.

“It’s my fault that Henry knew that Bill and Richie could be so easily pitted against one another. He saw them fighting last week, because Bill was angry.”

“Angry?”

“I told our parents the real reason Bill and the others are here. Bill thought it was Richie, and he felt betrayed so he attacked. Henry must have seen the whole thing.”

“Stan, what did you tell your parents?” Jake Epping had a sinking feeling in his gut.

This was the moment where Stan had to make a decision. Did he trust his English teacher? His eyes searched Jake’s before he pressed forward. “Mr. Gray enters Bill and Mike into illegal fights out on Sheriff Bowers’ farm. Most of the town goes out to watch. They take bets on children fighting one another.

What happened at the gravel pit was Henry wanting to be like his father. He took me and Richie to use as leverage. Initially he had wanted to watch Bill and Richie fight, but Bill wouldn’t because Richie – despite all his passion for Street Fighter – knows nothing about fighting. But the gravel pit isn’t what’s important. We need to stop the fights. We have to get them out of that house, away from the situation. That’s why I told.”

“You did the right thing, Stan.”

“I know. I just hope I can convince Bill. That’s why I have to get into the hospital. I need to tell him… well I’m not entirely sure, but I have to see him.”

Jake nodded. “I’ll pull together some assignments from _Corelli’s Mandolin_ for you to take to him. And thank you for trusting me with this.”

“You don’t have to report this, right?”

Jake Epping looked up from the stack of papers he was pulling through. He leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “Teachers are mandatory reporters; however, due to the delicacy of this issue seeing as the police are dirty and the fact that I have not seen any evidence I think I can keep it quiet for the time being.”

“Thank you –”

Epping held up his hand. “Don’t thank me. You said you told your parents, does that include Arlene Hanscom?”

Stan nodded unsure of at what Jake was getting.

“She’s a mandatory reporter as well seeing as she’s an RN. And I’m going to bet that the doctor looking at Mr. Denbrough is one too. Your window of action is closing. I hope your parents have a plan, because if not social services may be getting a call whether you like it or not.”

Stan nodded, he wasn’t sure why that filled him with unnameable dread.

Jake went back to pulling assignments. “I suppose this has to do with the Family Law books you and Richie were pulling?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the project Beverly and Ben were working on at City Hall?”

“Yes.”

Jake chuckled. “You kids are quite ingenious.”

Stan smiled a little at that.

“And I want you to know that when this comes out, you’ll have more support in this town than you think.”

“Sir?”

“There may be some bad eggs, I’m sure I could guess most that find their way out to Bowers’ farm, but you’d be surprised how much goodness Sadie and I encountered when we moved here. Just folks getting by and wanting to help out their neighbors. There is some goodness left in Derry, and I think you kids are the best and brightest.”

Stan felt tears spring to his eyes, and for the first time all weekend they weren’t brought on by fear or sadness. Instead he felt hope.

“Here are the assignments for the week for Mr. Denbrough,” Jake said passing the papers over to Stan.

“Thank you, sir.” Stan put them in his bag just as the first bell rang.

“And, Stan?”

He turned back.

“I’m rooting for you kids.”

Jake Epping watched Stan disappear through the frosted glass window in his door. He sat back in his chair and figured he had a lot to tell Sadie, and with any luck she was going to be very busy the next couple months. He smiled at the thought.

–

After school, Stan’s mother drove him to the hospital. She didn’t want him walking after everything that had happened, so she taken off of work early that day. She went in with him, stopping briefly at the nurse’s station to talk to Arlene Hanscom.

Stan continued through the bright hallways until he came to Bill’s room. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Bill lying in the bed looking out the window. The bruises looked worse under the artificial light, he looked smaller. Younger. Stan’s grip on the papers tightened. What if Bill didn’t want to see him? What if he was still mad?

“You can go in, honey,” a doctor said in passing.

Bill didn’t turn at the sound.

Stan nodded, and not wanting to stand in the hall like a fool any longer, he entered, knocking on the door frame as he did so.

“Hi, Bill.”

Bill jolted, surprised, and turned to look at Stan expecting a nurse. “Stan.”

“I brought you some assignments,” Stan’s tongue tripped over itself in his haste to explain himself. “I know you’re not really doing work right now, but I just wanted an excuse in case Mr. Gray inquired if you had any visitors.”

Bill nodded.

“I just want to say I’m sorry.” 

“W-what for?”

“I shouldn’t have told our parents without making sure you were okay with it. I was just scared and didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay, Stan. I d-don’t blame you. I’m not m-mad anymore.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t d-d-deserve you, Stan. You’re good. Clean. It’s all I’ve wanted to b-be for so long, but after Saturday I r-realized that I’ve lost w-whatever part of me used to be like t-that.”

“That’s not true.”

“B-b-but it is. Sometimes I feel so angry, and I d-don’t know why. And w-when I was beating Rogan, I liked it. I liked hurting him b-because of what he s-said he was going to do to you. I liked being w-with Bradley because what he had to offer is w-what I deserve.”

“Do you – do you still want to be with him?”

“It’s what I deserve.”

“Bullshit! You deserve someone who loves you, Bill. Not someone that’s using you to – to get off.”

“I w-was using him too.”

Tears blurred Stan’s vision.

“He was a distraction. He helped me f-forget.”

“Do you love him?”

“No. W-what we had didn’t matter. It never did. But we were p-perfect for one another. Two b-broken people trying to fill each other up to not f-f-feel so empty. It was nice to forget for awhile.”

“You shouldn’t have to forget. You should remember your anger. You need to fight.”

“I’m t-tired of fighting.”

“I know.”

“You know? W-what could you possibly know about me, Stan?”

“I know that you’re hurting. That you love Georgie more than anything in this world, and that you would do anything to get him out of the situation you’re in right now. I know how much you love writing, and Epping’s class. You light up when talking about honor and chivalry. Even though it’s old fashioned you want to believe it still exists. And I know that you’ll keep fighting until you and the others are free. I know you, Bill.”

“I don’t d-deserve you,” Bill said one hand coming to rest on Stan’s cheek.

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“Bill, you’re braver than anyone I’ve ever met before. You’re smart, and loving, and kind. And if that doesn’t make you ‘clean’ then I don’t want you to be that.”

“I’ve d-done some awful things.”

“We’ve both made mistakes, but that’s not going to stop me from feeling how I feel about you.”

“How d-do you feel?” Bill asked.

Stan smiled a gentle smile. “I like you, Bill. I really really like you.”

The beeping monitor reported cheerfully that Bill’s heart did not in fact stop at the declaration, but its rate had instead begun to increase. Bill and Stan both looked over at the machine with fond smiles before turning back to each other.

“I like you t-too.”

Stan placed his hand over Bill’s.

“There’s so much I have to tell you,” Stan said.

Stan began by telling Bill about what he had told Epping this morning, and how the teacher warned them that their window was closing. He then told him what little he knew about Detective Nell. It wasn’t much, seeing as Beverly and Ben hadn’t had much to share on the matter, but it was something. Finally he explained how Mr. Gray had punished Georgie beginning Saturday night. He couldn’t make eye contact with Bill, even thinking how Mike and Eddie had described it today was more than enough to turn Stan’s stomach.

“And lastly, Richie wanted me to be sure to tell you that he doesn’t blame you for anything that happened. It would be too easy to sit around blaming one another, and he said he figured you blamed yourself more than enough for the two of you anyway. The point is from here on out we have to look out for one another. We need to have each other’s backs.”

“W-who said that?”

“Bev.”

“She’s right.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“There’s something I should t-tell you,” Bill said. “I lost m-my hearing in my left ear. The docs think it’s likely I’ll get it b-back, but they aren’t sure. And even if I d-do there’s going to be this r-ringing for the rest of m-my life.”

“Bill –”

“Hey don’t c-c-cry, it’s okay.”

“No it isn’t. These fights are killing you.”

“I know.”

Stan sniffled, rubbing his tears away with the back of his hand.

“The nurses were real nice and m-moved the chair to my good side. I told them I p-probably w-w-wouldn’t be getting any visitors, but they did it anyway. I’m glad they did. And Mrs. Hanscom b-brought me a b-book for when I was f-feeling up to it. I started r-reading it last night, and I’m really enjoying it. So you see, things aren’t so b-b-bad. Please d-don’t cry over me. C’mon, Stan.”

Stan tried to smile at Bill’s attempts to make him feel better. “What book?”

“It’s called _JimLa_ by George Amberson – w-what’s so funny?”

“Arlene brought that to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know who George Amberson is?”

“N-no?”

“It’s Mr. Epping’s pen name. That’s one of his novels. About Jodie, Texas right?”

Bill nodded.

Stan smiled for real this time. “Mr. Epping is going to love hearing that you’re reading one of his books and didn’t even know it was his.”

Bill blushed. “Oh my G-God.”

“It’s alright, there’s a reason he hasn’t published under his real name. He wanted to separate his writing from teaching. But like I said before he’d probably love to mentor you with your own stuff.”

“Really?”

Stan nodded, happy to see Bill look hopeful for once.

A nurse stepped into the room. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Denbrough needs to go for some further tests.”

Stan smiled. “Just give us a sec?”

The nurse nodded, before ducking out.

Stan turned to Bill. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to find another reason to see you here.”

“That’s okay –”

“So before I go, I want to give you something, if you’re alright with it. Can I kiss you?”

Bill nodded.

Stan leaned over Bill’s bed, one hand steadying himself gently on Bill’s shoulders. He brought their lips together in a feather-light motion that lasted for only a moment. Pulling away, both boys’ cheeks were flushed.

“Look after yourself, Bill Denbrough,” Stan said before going.

Bill watched him leave, and couldn’t help but feel that Stan had taken his heart with him. But that was okay. Instead of feeling empty he felt full. Fuller than he had in his entire life.

– 

When Bill returned from his tests his buoyant mood had yet to dissipate. There was a lightness in his chest that felt different than anything he had encountered up until now. Every time he thought about Stan’s request to kiss him – the blush spreading across his cheeks, the shy quirk of his lips – Bill couldn’t help but smile. He felt silly, like a young kid in love. And despite all the bad and scariness that threatened him, like a tunnel surrounding him, pushing him forward, for the first time Bill could feel the light.

The feelings began to waver when two police officers walked into his room. The nurse that was checking his vitals looked nervously at them over her shoulder, before offering Bill a reassuring look. She left, headed directly for the nurses’ station and Arlene Hanscom.

“Good afternoon, Bill,” the first officer spoke loudly, over enunciating his words. Obviously he had heard that Bill had lost hearing in one ear. Bill disliked him instantly. “I’m Deputy Borton, and this is Officer Leydecker.”

The other officer, who looked like he had only just graduated, gave him an apologetic smile.

“We want your statement about what occurred on Saturday.” Borton finished just as loudly as he started.

“There is n-no need to shout. I only lost hearing in one ear, you know.”

Borton frowned.

“We’re really sorry to do this now,” Leydecker cut in at a regular tone, “but –”

“Can it, Leydecker. This isn’t your investigation. Tell us what happened, Bill. In your own words.”

Bill looked from Borton to Leydecker. He decided to speak to the latter. “I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit!” Borton said.

“He did suffer a traumatic –”

“He knows more than he’s saying. You can tell by the fucking glint in his eye,” Borton said. “This is your problem, Leydecker. You’d trust any con artist, even if they stole the pearls off your dead granny’s neck –”

“He’s not a con artist, he’s just a boy –”

“ – now, Bill, tell us what happened.”

“I don’t remember.”

“You can’t have forgotten everything, even a deaf like you can’t be that dumb –”

“Deputy –”

“Not another word from you, Leydecker! Speak, boy!”

Bill looked up at the reddening officer. “I. Don’t. Remember.”

“Well what’s the last thing you do remember?” Leydecker asked softly.

Borton glared at his subordinate.

“I w-was in the yard of 29 Neibolt. A c-classmate told me I should come to the g-g-gravel pit. There w-was something he wanted to show me.”

“This classmate?” Leydecker prompted.

“Bradley Donovan.”

“Your father seems to think you don’t have any friends,” Borton said with the satisfaction of a hunter who thinks himself particularly clever in laying a trap. “So what got you out of your yard?”

“D-Donovan told me they were hurting other boys, he said that our property was the closest.” Bill hated to paint Bradley in any sort of heroic light, but the alternative would only cause more trouble.

“Bullshit.” That seemed to be Borton’s go-to phrase.

“Mr. Denbrough, all the others involved at the gravel pit have lawyered up and refuse to say anything. You’re are only chance –”

“Leydecker, you really think you’re going to get anything honest out of this fucker? First he says he can’t remember, then he says that Donovan brought him there to act as a white knight? Bullshit.”

“I d-don’t remember what happened after,” Bill countered, his heart rate monitor was beeping wildly now. “I just know that Bowers, Hockstetter and Rogan were tormenting these boys f-from my school and I had to stop it.”

Leydecker jotted that down. Borton rolled his eyes.

“The boys from school? How did you know them?”

Bill shrugged in what he hoped was a casual manner. “We’re classmates.”

“And that was enough for you to get involved?” Leydecker asked.

“W-wouldn’t it be for you, Officer?” Bill asked without any accusation.

Leydecker nodded.

“Enough of this bullshit. Leydecker, out. We’ll be back, Bill, should we have any more questions.”

“Certainly, D-Deputy Borton.”

“Thank you for your –”

“Leydecker!”

Officer Leydecker offered Bill one last sympathetic look before leaving the room. Borton glared at him before shooting one last nasty glance at Bill. He stalked out of the room, no doubt on his way to tell Sheriff Bowers everything he had learned. Bill could only hope he had done enough to protect his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little treat for you this Halloween where we cannot go out. I hope you enjoy the sweetness (no tricks up my sleeves)!! Please let me know your thoughts below. Was it what you hoped for? Did you want more?  
> I have just finished rough drafts for the next four chapters and I am so excited to share them with you over the next month! Thank you again for all your support and love. This fic would not exist without it.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW  
> Next chapter: we're calling in the Cavalry, babey!


	23. Chapter 23

Richie Tozier was sitting on his bed Tuesday night when the door bell rang.

“Honey, can you get that?” He heard his mom call out from the kitchen.

Richie’s curiosity was piqued. It wasn’t abnormal for the Urises to be invited over for dinner without Richie’s awareness to the fact, but usually Stan would bring it up in school. Stan had said nothing of the sort, not to mention that the dinner hour had long come and gone. 

In socked feet, for maximum stealth, Richie crept to the top of the stairs and looked down. He wasn’t sure who he had expected to see, but Arlene Hanscom was not it. The woman followed Wentworth into the other room chatting about how lovely the Tozier’s décor was.

Richie ran back to his room, pulling his radio out as he went.

“Trashmouth to New Kid, are you reading me?”

“New Kid, here. What’s up? Over.”

“Your mom just showed up at my house.”

“She did what!?”

“Did she tell you that she was planning on coming over?”

“No. She just told Aunt Jean that she had to visit a sick friend.”

“I think you’d better come over. You know how to sneak in my window?”

“Richie, are you kidding me?”

“Codenames only!”

“I am not crawling through your window –”

“Well you better figure out something. Bring Embers too, if she can manage to make up an excuse for her old man. Over and out.”

Richie was just setting the radio down when he heard his mother’s voice floating up from the hall.

“Andrea! Don! So glad you could make it.”

Stan’s parents were here too? This was getting weird. He radioed to Stan telling him to get his scrawny ass over here, and through his window post haste. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but like hell were his parents going to leave him out of the loop.

Stan was the first to arrive, and with a lot of muttering under his breath he managed to make it up the trellis and through the window.

Already, Richie could hear the hushed voices of the grown ups downstairs. Their tones were too soft and indistinct to make anything out. And besides, watching Stan struggle through the window without untucking his shirt in the process was just too funny not to watch.

“Thanks for the help, asshole,” Stan said once he righted himself. “Can’t believe you do this on a regular basis.”

“Not a regular basis, only when true love requires it.”

Stan rolled his eyes at that, but Richie could see that he was softening up. Perhaps seeing Denbrough in the hospital had done him some good, although Stan had refused to tell Richie what happened which Richie found mildly insulting.

“Keep your voice down,” Stan said without any bite to his words.

Richie mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key.

Beverly came next, swinging through the window like a trained ballerina. She made it look unfairly easy, thought Richie.

“Haystack, with you?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t want to break your mom’s trellis so he’s waiting by the back door.”

“How’d you get away from your dad?” Stan asked.

Beverly smiled. “A girl’s gotta keep some secrets for herself. Now let’s go get Ben and see what the grown ups are up to.”

Luckily, as they sneaked down the carpeted staircase, no one was in the foyer. Richie led the way through the hall to the kitchen where he unlocked the door and let Ben in.

“Jesus, what are those for?” Richie asked in a harsh whisper.

In Ben’s hand was a bouquet of flowers. “They’re for your mom, I stopped –”

“With any luck my mom is never going to know that any of you were here –”

“Lassie?”

The teenagers turned in what might have been a comical manner had this been a farce to find Wentworth and Maggie opening the front door. Stepping through it was the man Beverly and Ben knew to be Detective Nell, and behind him was a stranger. It was the first who had spoken, eyes twinkling, drawing the attention of the Toziers to their kitchen.

Ben was the first to speak, “here, Mrs. Tozier. These are for you.”

Any anger that Maggie could have found in her heart dissipated in the strangeness of the moment. She laughed before coming forward to take the bouquet from Ben. “Thank you, Ben. Now the rest of you better head into the living room. It’s where everyone else is waiting.”

Wentworth shot her a look, but Maggie just shrugged. It was foolish of them to think they could keep their children away from this. Better to have them involved and know what was going on than to have them sneaking around and possibly complicating things or worse putting themselves into danger. She just hoped that the others would understand.

“Stan? Oh my goodness, you’re all here,” Andrea said as the children entered the room.

“I guess we forgot how clever our children could be,” Wentworth added as he ushered in their guests. “Detective Nell, you know Arlene and her son, Ben and his girlfriend, Beverly. Over here we have the Urises, Andrea and Donald and their son Stan. Next to him is our son Richie, who I suppose is the one who called the cavalry.”

Detective Nell looked around the group. Not too shabby for some small town cavalry. “And thanks to your information I have Mr. Dick Halloran with me.”

All eyes turned to the newcomer.

“I heard you’ve done a lot of work towards uncovering what happened to the Hanlons. If there is anything I can do to help further the investigation, I would like to help.” Dick Halloran said.

“Well that’s what this gathering is for,” Nell said picking up the conversation. “I’m afraid things have gotten a little more complicated since I spoke to you all last. That’s why I wanted to have everyone together, and I suppose it is for the best the children are here. Saves time.”

“What’s happened?” Maggie asked, coming back into the living room with the bouquet freshly arranged in a vase. She set it on the coffee table before sitting next to her husband, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“To start, I have had some conversations with my department chief. He thinks that we have a good case as Mr. Gray’s activities crosses state lines. That would be the primary focus of an FBI investigation if we are called in. The fight ring in Derry would be a piece of it, but as we have not been invited in by the locals it cannot be how we approach the case. We will also need to involve internal affairs to investigate the entire Derry Police. However, the fight in the gravel pit has created some issues.”

“What sort of issues?” Donald asked.

“Well you fine folks want to press charges, but with Sheriff Bowers in charge it would be impossible. The police won’t cooperate as from the sounds of it most are in Bowers pocket, and the case will be thrown out. Men like Bowers are invested in protecting their interests. What those bullies did threatens to expose the fighting ring if its brought to the greater attention of the town. Bowers won’t let that happen. His men won’t let it happen either. But there is no saying what the doctors or nurses might do. If they report to child services it could cause Mr. Gray to flee.” Here Nell looked to Arlene.

“None of the nurses have mentioned reporting. Most think Mr. Gray is a charming father, if not somewhat aloof,” Arlene said. “Only Doctor Cho is concerned by her encounter with Mr. Gray, but it hasn’t been enough for her to make a call. She does find it peculiar that Mr. Gray hasn’t tried to press charges.”

Detective Nell nodded. “Of course, of course. The question is whether Mr. Gray will try to flee or if he will choose to stay. In order to catch him, he must stay. There is no telling where he might appear next, and to create a new case file there would be difficult. We have a pretty good idea of the involvement here in Derry, and we would like to make the final stand, so to speak, here.”

The Losers looked uneasily at one another. There was something unsettling about the word “final.”

“But that is not the only reason I have brought us all together. I thought we might benefit from hearing from Mr. Halloran.”

Dick Halloran gave a wan smile. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. The Hanlons were my best friends. I can’t bear to think what this psychopath has done to their son, and I want nothing more than to give Mike everything that is his.”

“You mean the farm?” Beverly asked.

“It’s not much of a farm these days, but yes. The property is valuable, and if he has no interest in it, then he can sell it for a small fortune. Mike deserves whatever future he wants.”

“Would you take him to live with you in Florida?” Ben asked.

“I don’t know. I think he’s gotten a lot of his life dictated to him until now. I’d like to give him a say if I can.”

“What’s going to happen to the others?” Stan asked, turning back to Nell. “When the investigation is launched?”

“They’ll be put into protective services until the trials are through. Then we’ll try to place them permanently with new families,” Mr. Nell said.

“Outside of Derry.” It wasn’t a question.

“Probably.”

Stan tried not to panic. He glanced over at Richie and saw that he was thinking the same thing. They had only just found one another. To even consider them being torn away so soon was painful and incomprehensible.

“When do you think you will be launching your investigation?” Arlene asked.

“Due to the sensitive nature of our case, where we cannot go to local authorities, my team has begun a file based on what we know of Mr. Gray’s activities. We are currently speaking with those that knew them in Chicago, although there isn’t much to go on since they weren’t there for very long.

We are trying to trace all of Mr. Gray’s movements across the country to see if anything concrete turns up. What would be best is if we can catch him at a fight, with all the others. State police are willing to help on the bust, but we would need solid information. Do you understand?” Nell asked looking directly at Beverly.

“Yes. We can find out when the next fight is.” Beverly said.

Their parents looked uneasily at one another, obviously worried about their children putting themselves into danger.

“We may not be able to mobilize by then, but it would be good to know of. I have started chatting with Mrs. Kersh to see what she knows. Perhaps she is my ticket in,” Nell shrugged here.

“Children, go upstairs. There is something I want to discuss with Detective Nell,” Maggie said looking to Arlene and Andrea.

“Mo-om.”

“No, Richie. And don’t try and eavesdrop on the stairs, you’re in enough hot water as it is.”

Richie rolled his eyes and led his friends upstairs.

“Jeez you’d think she’d be grateful,” Richie said.

“Our parents are just trying to protect us,” Stan said.

“I know, but this is our fight. We brought it to them.”

“Do you think there will be another fight night soon?” Ben asked.

“With the condition that Bill is in, Mr. Gray would have to be insane,” Stan said.

“Yeah but what have we seen of Mr. Gray’s actions that show any sort of sanity?” Beverly asked.

“What are you thinking, Bev?” Richie asked.

“If I were Mr. Gray I would want to get things back to normal as quickly as possible. Show that I was still a strong contender, right? So what other way is there than to throw them back into the ring?”

“Bill can’t fight in his current condition. It would be suicide.” Stan cut in.

“Yeah, but what other choice does Robert have? Bill is an investment that didn’t pan out. Probably the only thing from keeping him from terminating him is the added scrutiny of the nurses and doctors that the gravel pit has brought upon him,” Beverly said.

“Harsh.” Richie said.

“I’m just thinking like he would. If we’re going to outsmart him, someone has to.”

“Alright so what do we do?” Ben asked.

“You keep watch,” Nell said from the door. “And you let me know if anything comes up.”

“How?”

“Here,” Nell held out four business cards. “I want all of you to be able to contact me. I’ll be out of town the next few days, but I’ll be back soon.”

“Where are you going?” Richie asked.

“First Augusta, then DC. Like yourself, young man, I’m calling in the cavalry.”

“They’ll be okay, won’t they? Bill and the others?” Stan asked.

Nell looked thoughtfully at the young man before him. “They have been quite through and ordeal, and I won’t say that it will be easy after. There is quite a bit more for them to face, but I think they’ll get through. They are lucky to have you on their side.”

“Thank you, Detective.” Beverly said.

Aloysius Nell smiled. “You are very welcome. Now you children better go apologize to your parents for sneaking out.”

The boys left, leaving just Beverly and Detective Nell.

“I was wondering, I don’t know if Arlene brought this up, but I’m looking for my mother. And I was wondering if you had any leads on her.”

“Elfrida Phillips.”

“That’s her.”

“We’re searching, lassie. But she’s hidden herself quite well, perhaps she doesn’t want to be found.”

Beverly nodded tears in her eyes. “If you do find her, will you tell her that I’m not mad at her. I don’t want her thinking that my father poisoned me against her.”

“She should be very proud to have you as her daughter.”

Beverly brushed her tears away. “I better go down there, before Ben starts to worry.”

Detective Nell watched Beverly go and couldn’t help but be reminded of those brave women who had so fought nobly, giving everything to their cause. He had no doubts that he would find Elfrida Phillips, he just hoped that Beverly wouldn’t be disappointed by her mother. He left Richie’s room with a long list of tasks ahead of him.

–

Downstairs, Dick Halloran was asking the Losers what Mike was like as a teenager.

“He’s like a gentle giant,” Ben said. “I don’t know anyone with a bigger heart.”

Halloran smiled at that.

“He also knows more about football than anyone else I know,” Beverly said, sitting beside her boyfriend.

“To be fair, none of us know shit about football.”

“Language,” Wentworth said elbowing his son, but there was a fondness to his tone.

“Football, huh?” Halloran asked.

“Sorry, Dad. He also has a head for physics and mathematics. He could probably be in a more advanced class,” Richie said.

“Sounds just like his mother.”

“Was Jessica good at mathematics?” Andrea asked.

“She had a good head for numbers. As far as I know she was head of her class in high school and college. She knew how to operate a business like nobody else,” Dick said. “Will was good with the animals and the land. Gentle soul. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless his family were in danger. Then he could fight with the best of them. He hated to do it, but he would do anything to protect Jess and Mikey.”

“Sounds a lot like Mike,” Stan said.

“I’d like to see him,” Dick said.

The Losers looked at one another.

“Maybe during lunch someday? We could eat outside. You might be able to see him then without raising too much suspicion, especially if you were just taking a walk or something,” Ben offered.

Halloran looked thoughtful. “Perhaps I’ll do just that.”

“It’s too risky,” Don said.

Halloran looked conflicted for a moment before saying, “of course.”

There was a moment of heavy silence.

“How do you think they faked his death?” asked Beverly.

“I wish I knew. The bodies were burned beyond recognition, so all I had was the coroner’s word that the dental records were a match.”

“Do you think he could be dirty?”

“I didn’t used to think so, but based on all that I’ve learned the past few days nothing would surprise me. I never liked Bowers or Rhulin, but I didn’t think them capable of such violence. It’s hard to believe that so many folks here take part.” Halloran said, looking at the other grown ups to see them nodding. “But kids like you give me hope that there has to be some goodness left in Derry.”

The Losers smiled at his words.

“Now it’s getting late, we better head out,” Andrea said.

The party dispersed in good cheer despite what lay ahead of them. Little did they know that time was running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love and support on the last chapter! I am so glad that you enjoyed the soft stenbrough.  
> This has been one hell of a week, so I hope I can provide you with some minor distraction. Enjoy, and let me know what you think? Things will start ramping up (for the final time) soon.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update. I got caught up in the Unus Annus stream last night, and had to say goodbye. (memento mori)  
> I know this chapter is a bit shorter, but it offers some important points. And to anyone hoping Sadie and Jake would become parents, I'm sorry to say that won't be happening. But please let me know any other predictions you might have (so that I can dash your hopes against the rocks... I kid I kid...)  
> Thank you for your love and support!  
> YRS.  
> TWoW

On Wednesday afternoon, Bill was sitting in his bed writing in a notebook Arlene had bought for him. The headaches had gotten better, and breathing didn’t hurt so much. Doctor Cho assured him he would be released soon. However, he still couldn’t hear out of his left ear, and that scared him more than he wanted to admit. So he turned to writing. Telling stories helped to distract him from the lopsided world in which he was living, but it didn’t stop him from worrying about Georgie. 

Nothing could keep him from worrying about his baby brother. Bill was anxious to be released, not that he wanted to return to that hell house on Neibolt Street, but he needed to look out for Georgie. He missed his little brother desperately, and felt bad for ignoring him on Saturday so that he could sneak off with Bradley. It had been selfish. He knew that now. But however much he wished he could take back his actions, he didn’t regret saving Stan and Richie. He just hoped Georgie would understand, and not listen to whatever lies Robert might try and feed him. Robert. Bill shuddered just thinking about the man. His pen stilled.

Robert, who had come Monday during school hours so that Bill wouldn’t be able to see Mike, Eddie or Georgie. Bill was sure that that had been intentional. Robert, who had whispered instructions between his teeth while offering simple platitudes in the guise of love. The visit had been for show, as Bill was pretty sure that Doctor Cho was suspicious of Robert, and so that Robert could coach him for when the police came. His hand shook as anger built within him.

However, all his thoughts disappeared when the nurse arrived with a visitor.

“Mr. Epping?”

Jake Epping nodded. “Hello, Mr. Denbrough.”

“What are you d-doing here?”

“Stanley told me about your situation.”

Bill frowned.

“I’m afraid I forced the confession out of him.”

“Have you t-told anyone?” Bill asked.

Jake Epping scratched his head, “just my wife, but she understands confidentiality. It’s practically in her job description.”

Bill didn’t laugh at the awkward attempt at humor.

“I wanted to make sure you’re doing alright,” Epping said. He caught sight of _JimLa_ on the bedside table, “ahh. What do you think of it?”

Bill smiled. “It’s g-good. I finished it in two days.”

“Hm, I’m glad you liked it. The critics certainly didn’t. They had complaints with the mechanics of time travel. What silly nonsense.”

“Mr. Epping?”

“Hm?”

“W-would you consider looking at my writing? I want to know if it’s any good.”

Jake Epping looked surprised. “I’d be honored, Bill. How about you bring some of your stuff round to my office when you’re back in school and I’ll take a look.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“How’s the healing coming, by the way?”

“Slowly. The headaches have gone away, but my body still hurts. The doctors aren’t sure if I’ll regain my hearing. They say there’s some surgery that could correct it, but Robert will never pay for it.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

Bill shrugged. “The writing h-helps.”

“I find writing to be a cure to most ails.” Jake said without a hint of sarcasm.

“I’m enjoying _Corelli_.”

Jake smiled. “I can see how you might relate to Captain Corelli.”

Bill shook his head, “Carlo actually.”

“Really? How come?”

“He joins the army to repent for his homosexuality. His actions are noble, he w-w-wants to be like classical Greek heroes.”

“That is fine thesis. I should think you could write quite the paper on comparing the two. Midterms are coming up in a couple weeks. Although, I am more than happy to give you an extension.”

Bill nodded, there was something that was bothering him. “Mr. Epping?”

“Yes, Bill?”

“Why did you and your wife settle here? You could have lived anywhere, but you chose D-Derry. How c-come?”

If Epping was surprised by the question he didn’t look it. “To be honest we moved here because Sadie couldn’t stand working in Dallas anymore. It was too violent, too much heartbreak. We needed a change of scenery. An old family friend of ours invited us up to Derry to stay the summer, and we came. We made the move permanent shortly after that.”

“And now? K-knowing what you know?”

Epping ran his fingers through his hair. “There’s something you learn as you grow up, and that is that no town is perfect. Crime exists everywhere. Some places are worse than others, of course, but you can’t always write off a place because something bad has happened. Now I know what you and the others have been through may mean you disagree with me, and that is certainly valid. Derry might never be a good place for you, but for a lot of folks this is home. And for the good ones, that means we defend it from evils like what you’ve gone through. For us it’s about correcting the wrongs, and getting better. Does that make sense?”

Bill nodded.

“I’ll leave the politics to Sadie, but I know that there are others who think the same way we do. Take the parents of your friends for instance. They aren’t running, but rather fighting for what they know is right.”

“Have you ever thought about being a parent?” Bill asked, a though blooming in his chest.

Mr. Epping looked at Bill. “Sadie and I have discussed it of course, but while we love children we also love our careers. I don’t think either of us could be there enough for a kid. It’s not responsible.”

Disappointment washed over Bill, a dream he hadn’t known he had wanted was killed.

“In the future there are going to be a lot of questions for you kids,” Epping said. “And you’ll need to decide if Derry is a place you can live with, if you can move past what happened here or if it would be better to do so elsewhere. You and the others are going to have to give it a lot of thought. No answer is wrong, of course, but you must do what is right for you and not your friends. It’s okay to be selfish, Bill. Sometimes self interest can save you. I want you to remember that, okay?”

Bill nodded. He had barely begun to think of a world without Robert, had never dared to dream of one, and now the vast emptiness which had been his future was full of possibilities, and terror crept over him.

“I’m afraid I have given you a lot to think about,” Epping said. “I shall leave you to your thoughts. Get rest, Bill.”

“Thank you, Mr. Epping,” Bill said his voice catching in his throat.

“Of course, Bill.” Mr. Epping studied him for one more moment before stepping out into the hallway.

He caught sight of Arlene walking down the hall and hurried to go speak with her.

“How is he doing, really?” He asked after greeting the woman.

Arlene smiled. “Physically he’s healing quite well, all except for his hearing, but Mr. Gray isn’t willing to pay for the surgery. Damn him. But we’re going to be discharging him tomorrow. I hate to think about him living in that dark, cold, wet house with that monster.”

Epping nodded. There was a sense of security in the hospital. Nothing could touch Bill while he was here.

“Has anyone reported abuse –”

Arlene shook her head quickly. “No. Sometimes I want to, knowing what I know. But the way this town works –?”

“I know.”

“I want to move away, but Ben…” Arlene shrugged helplessly.

“I can imagine that it’s quite difficult for you, I am sorry.”

“How do you and Sadie stand it?” Arlene asked.

“The fight here is more manageable than it was in Dallas. We know that we can make a difference here, and not get lost in the chaos. But just because that is what’s right for us, doesn’t mean it’s what is right for you and your family.”

“I guess I have a lot to work through.”

“I don’t think any of us know how to handle this situation, but we’ll get through it together.”

“Thank you, Jake.” Arlene said, hastily wiping tears away. “Give Sadie my best.”

“Of course, Arlene. Take care of yourself.” Jake said before leaving.

Arlene watched Jake Epping go and wondered what the future held for them all. She wiped the rest of her tears away, drying the back of her hand on her pants, before hurrying back to her job.

–

Far away in Augusta, Detective Nell was rallying the cavalry.


	25. Chapter 25

25 – 

Bill went home on Thursday.

The house stood silent as a grave when Robert pulled up to the front, the others were still at school.

“What happened last week can never happen again,” Robert said. It was the first time he had spoken since leaving the hospital.

“Y-yes sir.”

“You children have foolishly risked everything which we have built. And the hospital bills, you owe me quite the small fortune.” Robert paused. “That is why I have decided to put you in the ring tomorrow night.”

Bill’s mouth went dry. “What?”

“Don’t gape at me, shut your mouth.”

Bill could hear the click of his teeth as he forced his jaw closed.

“You must earn your keep. And based on the little stunt you pulled last Saturday it would appear you are eager to fight.”

“My injuries –”

“You should have thought of that sooner. You have been selfish, Bill.” Robert’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel, the only outward sign that he was losing his patience. “You have quite the debt to pay back, and I should think you will enjoy doing it. I think you will be thanking me, come Friday.”

Bill glared at Robert. “Let my b-brother go, and I’ll do anything you w-want.”

Robert’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, going white, he turned to Bill a wicked light burning behind his eyes. He was a man at on the edge, and it would be smart of Bill not to push him. “That is not how this works, Bill. You have no power here. You will obey me, and be good. And if you do you get your pain meds. If not, I will withhold them, and the withdrawal will have you begging for mercy. Georgie’s punishment is for actions already done. Don’t make things worse.”

Bill stared back at Robert, he didn’t want to show weakness, but already a dull ache was returning. His body was craving the release that only medication could bring, and this was only the tip of the iceberg. He knew the longer he was off his meds the greater the withdrawal symptoms would become. He wasn’t sure he would make it through Robert’s plans without something to dull the pain. He looked at his lap.

“Good boy. Now go to your room. You need your rest. And depending on if you are good or not, I may or may not let you out for dinner.”

Bill bit back any retort and began the long walk to his room. Inside, the house felt dark compared to the bright overhead lighting of the hospital. Bill felt as if he were drowning in the gloom. He looked out his barred window and wondered if he could ever truly be free.

–

Eddie couldn’t help but be excited all day. He knew Bill would be home, and despite whatever Robert had planned, Eddie always felt safer when Bill was around.

“He’s coming home today, right?” Beverly asked at lunch.

Eddie nodded.

“Forecast?” Ben asked.

“Sunny!” Eddie couldn’t help but smile.

“We haven’t heard anything,” Mike corrected, but no one seemed to hear him. They were all too excited that Bill would be back soon.

“Hey, I got you something,” Richie said to Eddie.

Eddie looked curiously at Richie, the others turned to another conversation to give them some privacy.

“You said Robert took away your radio,” Richie said, pulling a small ham radio from his bag. “So I bought you a new one, so you can keep us up to date.”

Eddie looked at the tiny device in Richie’s hands before looking the other boy in the eye. Richie hadn’t said it, but Eddie knew that he had given it to him so they could keep in touch. He took the radio, before pulling Richie into a hug.

After a moment of hesitation, probably due to surprise, Richie pulled Eddie to him. Eddie buried his head into Richie’s neck enjoying the sweet smell of his shampoo. He felt Richie’s ribs expand under his arms as the other boy breathed him in.

They only broke apart when Beverly wolf whistled.

“As if you and Ben haven’t been sickeningly romantic all these years,” Richie said as Eddie pulled away, blush already coloring his cheeks.

“Time and place,” Beverly said. “Stan, back me up.”

Stan shared a smile with Richie before shrugging. “I don’t know I thought it was cute. Our very own Richie-o and Juli-eddie.”

“You did not just make that joke,” Beverly said.

“You know how R&J end up, right?” Mike asked.

Richie smirked. “I dunno, I kinda like it. What do you think Juli-eddie?”

“Shut up.”

“What you don’t like it?”

“Why would you put this thought in his head?” Eddie asked, turning to Stan.

Stan smirked. “Maybe I’m a sucker for romance.”

“Stan Uris a sucker for romance, now I’ve heard it all.” Beverly laughed.

“Stan, you are maybe the most emotionally constipated person I know. No offense,” Ben said.

Stan shrugged, “maybe things can change.”

“Stan Uris unopposed to change. I really have heard it all.”

“Hush, Beverly. Stan?” Richie’s eyes were alight with joy. This was his moment to get Stan to confess to what happened when he visited Bill, Richie could feel it.

“What?” Stan asked.

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this one. Something’s changed.”

“No –”

“Methinks the Jew doth protest too much.”

“Richie, you’ve used that joke already,” Stan said.

“I am sure that I have not. Now spill it.”

Everyone was looking at Stan now. There were no allies. Eddie was eager to distract from his new nickname, Ben and Beverly were curious, Richie was on a crusade, and even Mike seemed mildly interested.

“We just talked.”

“And?”

“And nothing, Richie.”

“You wouldn’t be blushing this hard if nothing happened.”

“I don’t go asking you how your midnight walk with Eddie went –”

“Diversion. Come on, Staniel. Wombmates don’t lie.”

“I hate it when you call us that.”

“But you know it’s true.”

Stan looked around the circle, eager eyes meeting his. He really only was delaying the inevitable. “We talked, and we… we kissed, alright?”

“That must have been some talk,” Beverly said, nudging Ben. He rolled his eyes fondly.

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

Mike laughed.

“Stan the MAN!” Richie held up his hand for a high five. Stan grabbed his wrist and dragged it down.

“Beep beep, Richie-o.”

“Aw you’re trying to embarrass me, but you know the nickname is growing on me. And what about you, Juli-eddie?” Richie took Eddie’s hand and kissed it.

Eddie let out a strangled shout.

The table erupted into laughter. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this good, embarrassment and all.

–

The good mood engendered in the lunch room had disappeared by the time Mike and Eddie returned to Neibolt. Robert’s car was already in the driveway, suggesting that he had already picked up Georgie from school, and locked the kid back in the attic. Eddie doubted Robert would have let him and Bill get a warm reunion. Anger threatened to boil to the surface.

“Hey,” Mike grabbed his shoulder before Eddie could do something rash. “We’re going to keep our heads down and get through this okay. No stupid risks.”

“Okay. You’re right.”

“Come on, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

They entered the dark house. Even during the day the place seemed gloomy, Eddie hated it here. He took out his inhaler, breathing the medication in hoping to calm the burn that had begun to grow in his lungs.

“Eddie? Mike?” Robert’s voice echoed from his office. “Come here please.”

Mike glanced at Eddie before walking down the worn carpet to the room at the end of the hall. Eddie had no choice but to follow.

Robert was behind his desk, going over some papers. He looked up at their entrance. “Sit.”

Mike and Eddie sat in the chairs opposite Robert. Trained like dogs, Eddie though bitterly.

“I am sure you have a lot of homework, but I need a favor. I am busy with work, and I need one of you to go to Keene’s Pharmacy to pick up Bill’s prescriptions. Eddie?” Robert asked, but Eddie knew it wasn’t really a question.

He began gasping, his fingers struggling to get his inhaler out. Robert waited for his answer.

“Can’t Mike –”

“I didn’t ask Mike. I asked you.”

“I can go –” Mike began, but was stopped by Robert raising a hand at him.

“After the grocery fiasco, I think not. Eddie, I have asked you to do me a favor. Not Mike, you. Now the longer we sit here discussing it the longer Bill will have to wait for his pain medication. And that seems rather selfish of you, don’t you think.”

Eddie glanced at Mike before turning back to Robert. He nodded.

“Good. Now here is the prescription. I expect you back before supper.”

“Can I go see him first?”

“Absolutely not. Bill needs his rest.”

Eddie nodded and went to leave.

Robert turned to Mike.

Even as Eddie was leaving he could just make out Robert’s voice, and the words sent a chill down his spine.

“Now about Friday night –” the rest was lost, but Eddie was sure that Robert had something planned.

–

Eddie didn’t even bother to take off his backpack, in fact he was glad to have the added weight thumping against his back as he walked. It was a reminder that this was real. It wasn’t some twisted fantasy in his mind, but actually happening.

Once he turned off Neibolt Street, and that dismal house disappeared from sight he pulled out the radio Richie had gifted him. Lunch felt like it happened years ago.

“Spaghetti to Trashmouth. Over.” Eddie’s hand moved off the talk button, “c’mon, Rich. Please be there. Please.”

“Trashmouth to Spaghetti. Gotta say this was earlier than I was expecting. You miss me that much?”

“It’s this weekend. The forecast. Rain. All rain.” Eddie sobbed.

“Shit.”

“Let the others know. I have to go. Over and out.”

–

Richie stared at the radio in his hand. All his good mood leaving him with only a heavy dread which sat in the pit of his stomach.

Robert couldn’t mean to – Eddie must be mistaken. But Richie believed Eddie, and as much as he wanted him to be wrong he knew that wasn’t it.

Instead of calling to the Losers, Richie went downstairs. His mom was still at her office downtown, but Wentworth was working at the kitchen table. College essays covered the space, any semblance of neatness or system lost on Richie.

“Dad?”

“Richie, what’s wrong?” Wentworth looked up from his grading immediately aware of the strange tone his son’s voice had taken on.

“There’s going to be another fight this weekend.”

Wentworth stared at Richie before leaping into action. He began by calling Donald and Andrea. Richie watched unable to stop the tears that streamed down his cheeks. His hand shook as he pressed the talk button on his radio.

“Trashmouth to the Losers. Over.”

“Richie?” The concern in Beverly’s voice came through before anything else.

“Rain. This weekend. It’s supposed to rain.”

There was no response, but Richie had no doubt that the others had heard.

–

Eddie opened the door to Keene’s Pharmacy, forcing himself into the brightly lit store. The bell above his head rang as Eddie tried to forget the last time he had seen the pharmacist. 

The slick glass bottle, the taste of vomit mixing with the sour beer, his breath heavy on Eddie’s face – 

Despite his best efforts the memories were crowding back. Eddie reached for his inhaler trying to regain control of his breathing.

He forced himself to the back of the store where the pharmacist’s counter was. He prepared himself to face Mr. Keene, but the place was empty.

Eddie rang the bell on the counter.

Shuffling from the back room.

Out stepped a young man Eddie didn’t recognize, and his heart leapt.

“Hi, I’m Joe Wyzer. What can I do for you?”

“Where’s Mr. Keene?” The question was out before Eddie could stop it.

“He’s out running some errands. I’m his assistant.”

Eddie nodded. “I’m here to pick up a prescription for William Denbrough.”

Joe Wyzer took the script from Eddie and looked it over. “You’re William Denbrough?”

“Um I’m his family,” Eddie shifted his weight nervously.

“These are some heavy duty meds, I dunno if I should give them to a kid –”

“I’m not a kid,” snapped Eddie.

“Right, sorry –”

“No, I’m sorry. It’s just I’m doing this for my – for my dad. He needs to stay home with Bill, so he sent me. I can’t go back without them, please.”

Something about Eddie’s tone must have proved him to be sincere, because Joe Wyzer nodded. “Alright, ki-. Alright. You got it.”

The pharmacist moved away from the counter to grab the prescription. When he returned he handed it over to Eddie without further protests.

“Can I put it on the tab?” Eddie asked. There was no way he had enough money from his allowance alone to pay for Bill’s medication.

Joe Wyzer nodded. “Sure, what’s the name?”

“Robert Gray.”

Wyzer typed the name into the computer, entered the figure and said, “alright. You’re good.”

“Thank you,” Eddie said. And he meant it, more than he could say.

Joe Wyzer watched the short teenager leave, and couldn’t help but worry about what was going on. Not that he would bring it up to his boss. Keene gave him the creeps even on the best of days. He would keep it to himself, until he was called upon by the proscution to testify against his boss. Then Wyzer would sing like a motherfucking canary.

–

Mike sat on his bed unable to process what Robert had told him. It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.

The adults knew that their schedule had been compromised. They didn’t know everything, thank god, but they sensed danger. They knew they were running out of time for the year. Robert had told him as much. So before they closed down for the season, Bowers wanted to have a big show. That was what the meeting with all the other fighters’ parents and Bowers had been about. Prove to the others that he still had a handle on things, knew how to make a good show. An extravaganza. That’s what Robert had called it. The word mad Mike’s blood run cold.

Friday night, Mike would be fighting Henry and Bill would be fighting Patrick. Then on Saturday they would have to fight one another. 

Mike versus Bill.

Brother against brother. A doubleheader, Robert had called it.

“If you hold back, I’ll know and there will be hell to pay.”

Those had been Robert’s exact words.

Hell to pay.

Mike tightened his hands into fists relishing the tightness in his joints, the way his nails dug into the palm of his hand. He waited for Eddie’s return, anxious to get word to the Losers. Mike had his doubts that Bill would survive this weekend without their intervention, and maybe that’s what Robert intended. Maybe he wanted Mike to kill him. And the weight of those thoughts were too much for him to handle alone. He needed to tell someone. He needed Eddie.

–

“Have you been able to reach Detective Nell?” Richie asked.

The Losers and their parents were gathered around the Tozier’s living room in a scene oddly reminiscent of what had occurred just a few days ago. Only now there was no hope, everyone seemed depressed.

“No.” Don said.

“He said he would be in Augusta and then DC,” Beverly said miserably. Eddie had gotten word to them that the news had gone from bad to worse. Two fights, and Bill’s chances of survival were low to begin with. What good was a stupid business card if they couldn’t get in contact with him?

“I don’t see how he will be able to return by tomorrow night,” Arlene said, biting her thumbnail to the quick.

The Losers looked at the adults uneasily. They were just beginning to realize how frightened their parents were, that just because they were grown ups it didn’t stop them from being human and fallible. Despite all the adults’ promises and comforting words, there were no guarantees, and they knew it, and now the Losers knew it too. It was a terrifying realization.

“So there is nothing we can do to stop it?” Dick asked.

“I don’t know,” began Don.

“That’s not good enough, Dad. We have to do something. There must be something,” Stan said.

The adults looked to Stan, and instead of feeling uneasy Stan felt angry. They didn’t know Bill like he did. They didn’t know how kind and sweet, and stupidly brave he could be. He was just some kid who needed saving to them, but to Stan he was more. How could he make them see that?

Andrea put her hand on Stan’s, but he drew away before standing.

“This weekend is our last chance. We have to put an end to it now or never,” Stan said.

He could feel the adults’ hesitation heavy in the air, but it wasn’t to them he was looking. Instead he turned to his friends. To the ones who had been so curious and hopeful at the start. They had believed they could change the world, some part of them still believed it. It was this belief he was searching for.

Richie stood up. “I agree. This is it.”

Beverly rose as well, grabbing both boys’ hands in her own. The relief of human connection grounded the trio, and Stan felt like he could breathe for the first time all night.

“Ben?” Richie asked.

The trio turned to the last teen, who was still sitting by his mother. Arlene looked at him, eyes wide full of terror, “Benny?”

He didn’t know if she was frightened about the outcome of his decision and what it would mean for the group, or if she was afraid that he was too cowardly to stand by his friends. He weighed the risks as carefully as he could given all they knew before rising to stand with his friends.

“They’re right, Mom. You all know that we have to fight now.”

Beverly’s smile lit up the whole room for Ben. As he looked once more over his shoulder he could see that same proud smile on his mother’s face despite her worry, and he knew that her fear wasn’t for how he would handle the situation, she had always believed in him, it was for what was up against them. Her worry warmed him at once, blush flooding his cheeks, and of course he thought about those boys who had no one worrying for them but the people in this room. It was this reminder that spurred him forward.

“Alright, so what now?” Arlene asked.

“We should keep trying to reach out to Detective Nell,” Andrea said. “Arlene, he was your connection. Will you be able to keep trying him?”

“Of course,” Arlene promised.

“I’ll try the state police in Augusta,” Dick said.

“We should also call Mr. Epping,” Stan said.

“And Sadie,” Beverly added.

“I’ll reach out to Doctor Cho. As Bill’s doctor she’s going to need to know what’s going on,” Maggie said. “Arlene if she has questions, will you help explain the situation?”

Arlene nodded, and reached for Maggie’s hand. The other woman smiled at the gesture.

“Looks like we’ve got a cavalry all our own,” Don said.

“ _Let slip the dogs of war._ ” Wentworth said with a grim smile.

_Julius Caesar_ , thought Richie, how appropriate. If only Eddie were here to hear it.

“And I’m going to see my godson, risk or no. I have to,” Halloran said.

This time no one protested.

–

Eddie and the others were all in their darkened cells searching for sleep. Only Robert, down in his office, heard the knock at the door. He padded silently to it, his long shadow moving languidly was the only thing to keep him company as he opened the door to the darkness, a toothy smile spread across his face.

“I presume you found it?” Robert asked.

“I did. Not cheap, but highly effective.” Mr. Keene licked his lips, a feverish glow upon his pocked cheeks.

Robert welcomed his dear friend into his office for celebratory drinks. The devil was well sated that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited about what's to come and I hope you are too. The next two chapters are big, and hopefully they are what you've been waiting for since the start.  
> Thank you to those who have continued to leave comments! I appreciate you so much. I would not have gotten this far if it weren't for y'all. Please let me know your thoughts on what's going on. Any predictions? I hope you're as ready for next week's update as I am! (If not start getting hyped! Maybe go back and reread previous chapters? Or don't lol I don't know how well they will hold up... but the point is start the emotional preparation now.)  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	26. Chapter 26

Bill wasn’t allowed to go back to school on Friday so he watched as Eddie and Mike left in the morning. They walked, heads bent from worry and fear. Stooped as they were they looked like old men. Bill wondered what they knew that he didn’t. He wished more than anything that he was going with them, escaping the house. He would have given anything to spend the day with his friends.

Five minutes later, Georgie left.

Bill’s heart leapt into his throat. This was the first time seeing his brother since last Saturday. Almost a whole week gone by, and Robert hadn’t permitted Georgie out of the attic when Bill was out of his room. It was torture, in Robert’s own words: punishment. Bill longed for his brother to turn back and look up at their window, to somehow acknowledge Bill’s presence. But Georgie didn’t. His head was bent low as he got into the car with Robert. Bill watched it until they had turned the corner disappearing from view.

From behind the bars on his room Bill let out a sob akin to that of a caged animal. And he supposed that that was what he was now, a caged pet only let out when it was entertaining its master. After pounding his fist against the wall he curled up between his bed and Georgie’s, anxious to just disappear for a little while.

He didn’t know how long had passed, only aware of the stiffness in his bones which demanded he sit somewhere more comfortable. He moved to his bed, bringing a notebook which contained his latest project. There was nothing else left to him, so Bill wrote and his soul recovered a bit of that which had been lost.

Around mid-morning, Robert came and unlocked Bill’s room allowing him to use the bathroom. Even in the privacy of the other room, Bill could feel Robert’s eyes boring through the wood door. He hurried, afraid to anger the man.

As he returned to his room, Robert pressed a tray into his hands. On it was his breakfast. Toast, badly burned; eggs; and sausage, also burnt. In a small dish was his medication. Two little white pills which promised to take the pain away. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

Robert shoved the tray and Bill into his room before closing the door. The key turned in the lock, and Bill was left alone with the food. He placed it on his desk and began ravenously devouring it. He had been hungrier than he had thought. He swallowed down the two pills with a big sip of water, before turning to the food. The eggs tasted ashy as soon as they touched his tongue, but he was too hungry to be picky. The toast was practically inedible, but Bill forced himself to swallow. The dry crumbs scratching at his throat as he did. He forced another bite, then another until the two blackened triangles were gone. He took another large sip of water, washing away the last of the crumbs. He returned to the eggs and sausage. By the time he had finished his mouth felt oddly dry, but the glass of water had long since been emptied.

He moved back to his bed, hoping sleep would claim him, but it would not come. Despite the release from the pain meds, nothing Bill did allowed him to slip off to his dreams. His heart was racing, forcing him to stay awake. The ringing in his ear had gotten worse, and for some reason Bill felt anxious to be let out.

The more he thought about how he had been locked up the angrier he became. He had been locked up like some animal, he had been kept from his baby brother, his friends, all because he had tried to do the right thing.

It was because of Henry and Patrick and Rogan. They were the real monsters, the ones deserving of being locked away – 

A tearing sound broke through the silence.

Bill looked down to find that he had badly crumpled some papers that had been on his desk. He smoothed them out, frightened by his response. He hadn’t even been aware of picking those papers up, let alone twisting them like that. What if he had been around Georgie?

He looked at his hands suddenly afraid of what he was capable. He backed away from his desk, falling hard on his ass. He ignored the pain and scooched back to his hiding place between the two beds. He held the sides of his head wondering if he was losing his mind.

He tried to regain control of his breathing. The ringing in his left ear was louder now, almost like an alarm going off in his head. So was the pounding of his heart. What the fuck was happening to him?

His fingers curled around his hair, pulling gently at the roots. This was real. Whatever was happening right now was real. It wasn’t in his head. So why did he feel like he was no longer in control?

–

Despite the chill in the air, the Losers didn’t eat lunch in the cafeteria. Instead they walked around the athletic fields until they found somewhere relatively deserted. They settled for the space behind an outbuilding by the soccer field which stored athletics equipment when it was not in use.

Stan sat with his back to the wall, and Eddie couldn’t blame him. After what had happened to him and Richie, he was probably making sure that no one could sneak up on them ever again.

“What are we doing out here?” Mike asked. It was obvious he didn’t think being out in the open was such a good idea. After all Robert had spies everywhere.

“It’s okay, Mike. We can talk here,” Beverly said.

Mike relaxed a little, trusting Beverly.

“So this weekend is a doubleheader,” Richie began.

Mike nodded. He still hadn’t told them the worst of his suspicions, that this might be the end of the line for Bill, but he figured that Stan had probably already pieced it together.

“But that’s okay, we have a plan,” Beverly said.

Eddie looked at her with surprise. “A plan?”

“Well half of one,” Beverly said.

“Where’s the other half?” Mike asked. Although there was a teasing tone to it, it was clear that he was worried.

“We’re not able to contact him,” Beverly said, looking away.

“Fucking great. We have half a plan and double the trouble. Sounds perfect.”

“Eddie –”

“Don’t.”

Richie drew away.

“You really don’t have anything better than half a plan?”

Mike stood suddenly, distracting Eddie from the rest of his diatribe.

On the other side of the fence a man was approaching. Mike remembered noticing him at the pep rally in Memorial Park, thought there had been something familiar about him, and now seeing him again Mike was sure that he should know him.

The Losers watched in silence as Dick Halloran laid eyes on his godson for the first time in twelve years.

Dick put his hand up, fingers curling around the wire of the chain link fence.

“Mike, meet Dick Halloran. Your godfather,” Beverly said quietly.

“Hey, Mikey.”

Like a dreamer in a trance, Mike walked toward the stranger. He could feel the man appraising him, but instead of being afraid that he wouldn’t measure up, Mike only felt calm.

“I can’t stay long. Folks might get suspicious if they see an out-of-towner hanging around the high school, but I had to see you before tonight. Christ, you look just like them.” Tears were in Halloran’s eyes.

“You’re real,” Mike said, hand meeting Halloran’s through the fence.

“Course. Christ, there’s so much I gotta tell you, gotta give you.”

Mike looked back at the others, unsure of what this all meant for his future, where he came from, who his parents were. He was met with a variety of looks. Eddie jaw dropped. Stan, a carefully neutral expression, eyes shining nonetheless. Bev smiling widely, laughing as tears pooled in her eyes. Ben with his calming smile. Richie smirking. He turned back to the older man.

“I can’t wait to hear everything.” He tightened his grip of the other man’s hand. “But only when it’s safe.”

Halloran nodded, tears running down his cheeks. “Christ, if they could see you now. They’d be so proud.”

Mike smiled, wishing that he could hear the stories now. He gave one final squeeze before saying, “you’d better go. But soon. We’ll catch up soon.”

Halloran agreed, before turning to go. Watching him leave was the hardest thing Mike had done, he wanted nothing more than to call him back and hear everything now.

Mike returned to his friends.

“Was that worth the risk?” Beverly asked.

He turned to her. “Tell me what you know about my parents.”

“Perhaps we should –”

“Don’t you dare say wait,” Mike said.

“No, but maybe you should hear this from Halloran.”

“I’ve been told my whole life that they abandoned me. I want to know the truth.” Mike said.

“Tell him,” Stan said.

Beverly looked over to him and then began. “Twelve years ago there was a fire out by Bowers’ farm.”

“The burned down barn on the hill,” Eddie said.

Ben nodded. “That’s the one. The farm belonged to your parents, Mike. It’s yours. They left it in a trust to you.”

“You mean, I’ve been from Derry this entire time?”

Beverly nodded. “Your parents were Will and Jessica Hanlon, and the three of you lived out there until that fire killed them and according to the official records you.”

“What?”

“Someone faked your death.”

“Who?”

“We don’t know,” Ben admitted.

“Although we have a couple guesses.”

“So Halloran was supposed to be my legal guardian all this time?”

Beverly nodded.

Mike sat down in the grass.

“It’s a lot to take in. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling,” Beverly said.

Mike smiled weakly at her. “I don’t even know how I’m feeling.”

“He wanted to meet you tonight, before the fight,” Ben said. “He wanted to give you a reason to survive. Something to fight for. You won’t be going back into the system.”

Eddie stood abruptly. “I need some air.”

“Eds?”

He sprinted away, hand fumbling for his inhaler. The Losers looked at one another wondering who should go after him.

Mike rose.

“Hey big guy, you’ve got enough on your plate. Let me take this one,” Richie said.

He followed Eddie across the field to the bleachers. He climbed the risers to where Eddie was hastily wiping his nose with a tissue.

“Go away, Richie.”

“No can do.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I. I want to know what’s going through that beautiful brain of yours, Eds. Always have. So spill, why the waterworks?”

Eddie glared at him, but Richie wasn’t intimidated.

“S’all right. I don’t mind just sitting here waiting til you’re ready to open up,” Richie said.

Silence hung between them. It was a bit unnerving, and as much as Richie wanted to fill it he knew he would have better luck letting it hang. After all he had had years and years to practice this technique on Stan. So while the silence hung, Richie knew Eddie would talk eventually. And as he was thinking this thought – 

“Seeing Mr. Halloran just got me thinking,” Eddie said between sniffles. “Mike was meant to go live with him after his parents death. And if he had he would have never fallen into Robert’s clutches. I just – I –” the sobs stopped him for a moment. “I’m jealous. Why is his godfather so kind and good, but mine was a monster? What did I do to deserve a mother who decided to die instead of take care of me? Who left me to him? It’s not fair! IT’S NOT FAIR!”

The words hung in the crisp air.

“No,” Richie said at last. “It’s not fair in the slightest.”

“And what’s going to happen after? The system, isn’t that what Ben said? Georgie, Bill, and I will all go back into the system. We’ll get separated for sure, maybe not Georgie and Bill, but definitely me. No one would want all three of us. And what if I end up with someone like Robert? Or someone worse, someone like like –” He wanted to say Keene, but he couldn’t. His mouth couldn’t form the name. “Someone terrible who can’t afford all my medications? Someone far away from Derry. What if I never see any of you again.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Riche said, grabbing Eddie’s hand.

He turned to Richie, eyes so wide with fear that he looked so different than the Eddie Richie had come to love. “You can’t stop them. You don’t get a say in things like that. You’re just a kid. We all are.”

“It won’t happen. We have my parents, and Stan’s, and Ben’s mom, and Mr. and Mrs. Epping, and Doctor Cho, and Detective Nell and Mr. Halloran on our side. We won’t let the system take you away and put you somewhere you don’t want to be.”

“How can you know?”

“Because, Eddie, I just do. You won’t end up with another Robert Gray. I swear it.”

Eddie began to cry, but it was tears of relief. Richie pulled him into a warm embrace and allowed Eddie to cry into his shoulder. The tears felt warm in the cold autumn air. They were a reminder that they were both alive.

The bell rang calling them back to class.

“You alright now?” Richie asked.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be alright, but I’m better.”

“That’s good, Eds. One step at a time. The worst will be over soon.”

“I hope so.”

Richie kissed his temple before standing. He offered Eddie a hand, “milady, might I help you down the stairs.”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Eddie said, stomping down the metal bleachers. Richie raced after him.

“Is that any way to treat your Richie-o?”

“I hate those nicknames. Mike is right, don’t you know how that play ends?”

“I should fucking hope so.”

“Then stop calling us starcrossed lovers.”

“So we’re not starcrossed?”

“No that’s not what I –”

“Are you saying we’re not lovers?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Eddie pouted indignantly; Richie found it adorable.

“Come now, Juli-eddie. Your father couldn’t stand me courting you, we’re totally starcrossed.”

“It’s not about the stars!”

“Then what is it about?”

“They die in the end.”

“Everyone dies, Eds.” Richie said without an ounce of teasing.

“I know that. I just mean, they die tragically. I don’t want that to be us.”

“The only tragedy, Eddie, is that polo.”

“Fuck you!”

“I just call it like it is.”

“You’re the last person who should be giving wardrobe advice. Have you even seen what you’re wearing? Do you own a mirror?”

“Would you prefer me out of these clothes? Perhaps they would suit your floor better?”

“Agh, you’re insufferable.”

“Only for you, babe. And maybe Stan, don’t be jealous it’s only cause we’re wombmates.”

“I pity anyone who you would call a wombmate.”

“Harsh, milady, harsh.”

“I need to get to class.” Eddie said.

By now they were back in the hallways of Derry High. Students were rushing to collect their things and head to class. The friendly noise and bustle of it all was so different than the abandoned athletics fields. It felt nice. Normal.

“Good to see that smile,” Richie said. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

Eddie softened. “Yeah, I can manage. Thanks, Rich.”

“At your service.”

“Don’t be gross.”

Richie winked, before heading to his own class. Eddie watched him go. No matter what happened tonight, they would be okay. He had something of his own for which to fight. Eddie headed toward fourth period.

–

The looming sense of dread only seemed to grow as the day carried on. It was as if long before the sun had set, a shadow had fallen over Derry. An alchemical change which would fundamentally change the town was on its way. It was in the slant of the shadows and the bite of the air, only no one knew to look for it there. And although the town was aware of a something out there on the horizon, there was no way of predicting just what was to come.

–

Bill was given another meal, another set of twin pills promising to ease the aches and pain. He wanted to leave it, after the morning’s reaction he didn’t trust whatever Robert had fed him, but he knew that punishment would follow if he didn’t eat and there was no guaranteeing on whom Robert would choose to enact his punishment. So Bill swallowed bite after bite of the egg salad sandwich. It fell apart in the same ashy way as before as it hit his tongue. He chugged what little water had been given to him until his stomach ached. He fell into bed, hoping to escape into his dreams, but before they could come he felt shivers steal across his flesh. His head pounded dully, and aches phantom or real he did not know, danced through his body. His last thought was that he was sure he must be dying. Oblivion took over shortly after that.

–

Cold water was poured over Bill’s head, startling him from an unpleasant dream. He jumped back, inciting a sharp pain in his ribs, scolding him from moving so quickly. He squinted up into the bright overhead light of his room to find Robert standing above him.

“It’s time.”

He looked out the window to find that night had fallen.

Standing in the door, doing their best not to look in, were Eddie and Mike.

“W-where’s my brother?”

“He won’t be coming tonight. He’s still grounded.”

“You c-cannot leave him in this house alone,” Bill said.

“What I do or don’t do is no longer your concern, Bill. Get up, and get dressed. We’re leaving in ten.” Robert said, walking to the door. He pushed Mike and Eddie away before closing the door. His orders to them were explicit in his actions.

Bill did as he was told, seeing no other way to fight back or rebel without bringing about unpleasantness. He dried his face on his shirt, before changing into dry clothes and a warm sweater. Derry nights had gotten cold recently, a sting in the air which promised winter was on its way, and although he knew his shirt and sweater would be taken from him upon arrival, there was no need for him to suffer the ride over. He thought about the series of shivers and hot flashes which had occurred this morning, and dread crept over him. There was no saying what might happen tonight.

–

The car ride to Bowers’ was a silent affair. Robert barely slowing down as they passed the burned barn, but that didn’t stop Bill from noticing how Mike eyed it. There was a thoughtful look on the boy’s face, one that Bill couldn’t even begin to interpret.

If Robert had noticed perhaps he would have asked Mike about it, but luckily he was too busy thinking his own distorted thoughts to look back at his charge. 

For Mike, the burned lands had always frightened him. Robert had wanted him to see them, to not know there significance, and Robert’s glee was terrifying. But now looking over the wasted land, Mike just felt a sad longing. It wasn’t as strong as nostalgia, as he could barely remember living here with his parents, but it was something akin to it. He was sorry for all the land that was his to tend going to rot, all his parents’ hopes and dreams for the place dying with them. He had an idea, just a hint of a thing tugging at his gut, but it was gone as the gloom devoured the farm on the hill. They were moving forward, faster than his thoughts could catch up, and the only barn which lay ahead was bright with liquor and malevolence. A living thing made up of hate, whose jaws had bitten down on them and did not seem likely to ever let them go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so proud of this chapter and the next. I hope you enjoy them. It's so wild to think how close we are getting to the end. I have created an upload schedule for December, you can check my tumblr or ao3 bio. It'll be some more of this as well as two other projects for the holidays. So if any of that stuff interests you make sure to subscribe for when I upload!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has shown love and excitement over this story. I am so grateful to you, and have loved sharing this story with you. It has been such a journey, and it's not over yet!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought, any predictions for next time? I hope you're getting excited, because I definitely am.
> 
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	27. Chapter 27

Robert parked the car before leading the boys towards the expansive backyard. Eddie clung to him like a shadow, afraid that Mr. Keene would try and get him drunk again, but there was no reason to fear. The pharmacist had yet to show his face.

When Bill and Mike were led away he couldn’t bring himself to follow. He was terrified of being caught alone, that tonight they would have to wrap their own hands. And while he felt guilty, his fear was paralyzing.

From across the crowd, Eddie saw Gordon and Marcia watching with a particular hate. He turned around, desperate to move out of their sight lines, only to have found that Robert had abandoned him. Panic roared louder than the drunken voices about his head. He froze, hating how vulnerable and alone he felt. As he decided what to do, he saw the boy from last Saturday walking towards him. Although he hadn’t known his name then, since hearing Stan and Richie’s accounts of the day he knew exactly with whom he was dealing.

“Bradley,” Eddie said.

Bradley looked surprised for just an instant at being recognized, but the heated emotion slipped away easily. “Didn’t expect to be remembered. Eddie, right?”

Eddie nodded.

“Look I just wanted to say no hard feelings. I did what I had to, just like any other chap.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I lost big on a fight a while back, owed Gordon quite a tidy sum which I would have gotten around to paying eventually. Instead he and his girl come and ask me for a favor, say I can wipe the slate clean. You can see why I had to take them up on the offer.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I just want it to be clear that no harm was meant. I enjoyed fooling around with Bill, liked it even. I was sorry that it had to come to an end so quickly.”

Disgust crawled across his flesh. “You’re just trying to save your own skin.”

Bradley’s charming facade dropped. “Look here, kid, there is no way this is ever going to court. The police are being kept in the dark, our parents have lawyered us up, and there is no way in hell your father would ever allow the truth to come out. I’m just trying to show that I’m a decent chap. Hell I haven’t even told anyone about those boys you hang out with at school. The ones that were at the gravel pit that day.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Bradley’s smile returned. “No I won’t. So long as you remember that I was a good guy, I like Bill. Don’t want to see him hurt.”

“Funny way of showing it. Coming here to see Patrick beat the living shit out of him.”

“Perhaps, but I’ll be rooting for him all the same. You see Bill and I have a connection.”

Bradley turned to go.

“One day people are going to know what you really are, Bradley. A spineless coward, rotting from the inside out.”

Bradley whipped around. Before things could escalate a long whistle was heard.

Eddie turned to see Peter Gordon whistle again before laughing with his girlfriend. Bradley looked conflicted before turning to go, heeling like a fucking dog. Eddie found little satisfaction in the comparison. Instead he just felt a profound sadness.

He scanned the crowd, and found Robert deep in conversation with Sheriff Bowers, Richard Macklin, and a woman he didn’t know. The quartet seemed in particularly high spirits, congratulating one another and laughing. As much as Eddie hated being by himself, he dreaded to approach the group. There was something fearsome in their joy, and with a jolt Eddie realized what it was. They believed they had won. Their plan, whatever it was, had come to fruition. And that’s when Eddie recognized the woman. She had been at Neibolt House the day Richie and Stan’s moms had come by. And that meant he knew who she was. Ronnie Hockstetter. Patrick and Avery’s mother.

He watched as Bowers pushed his way to the stoop at his back door, drunkenly rising above the crowd. It would seem a speech was in order.

“Neighbors, neighbors,” Bowers said, a hush settling over the crowd. “This shall be the last fight of the season.”

There were sounds of a disappointment. “I know you’re disappointed, we are too. We had some spectacular fights planned, but with the trouble in town we had to accelerate our time table. Tonight and tomorrow will be a show stopping finale that I think will make up for it. I’d like to give a round of applause to our coaches. Rich Macklin, Bob Gray, Ronnie Hockstetter, and myself.”

Cheers and applause broke out across the crowd. Sheriff Bowers raised a hand and silence fell once again.

“Thanks to our ref, Frank Dunning!”

More applause.

“And to our bookie, young Mr. Gordon.”

Peter raised his hand in acknowledgment.

“We have kept you all in suspense I know, so we will keep the betting open for the next fifteen minutes or so after I tell you the line up. Tonight we will have my nephew, CB, versus AHock. Hockstetter versus Denbrough, concluding with my son, Henry, against Hanlon.”

There were whistles of appreciation.

“Tomorrow will be the winner of the first fight against Garton, the loser versus Corcoran. And finally Hanlon versus Denbrough. Tonight’s bids remain open until the fights begin. Thank you.”

Bowers stepped down, and was surrounded at once. He was shaking hands of congratulations, being pounded on the back, and generally being hailed a hero. Eddie turned away in disgust. He saw that Gordon was surrounded by folks asking the odds and placing their bets. Gordon was at risk of being overrun, but Vic and Belch eagerly helped him in taking people’s bets. Marcia smiled at the leering old men, flirting with them, to convince them to make bigger and bigger bets. They were a well oiled machine of opportunistic greed, like carrion picking the choicest bits of roadkill leaving nothing but rot and bones behind. Except unlike carrion they offered no use to society. They were the trash of society.

Eddie struggled to breathe. He pulled for his inhaler desperate for the night to be over.

When the first fight was announced, Eddie made no effort to pack into the stifling barn. It was unusual that Robert was not there to guide him in, but Eddie supposed Robert’s mind was elsewhere tonight. Celebrating some impossible victory.

He watched unseeing as Connor – this fight’s golden boy – strutted into the barn, cheers erupting, followed slinkingly by Avery who was nothing more than a shadow. He pitied them both, the way the adults around them manipulated them, but found that he didn’t care about the outcome. He just hoped that the cavalry would arrive soon. He knew he shouldn’t have yelled at Beverly over her half plan, in fact now that he was sitting here half a plan sounded better than none at all. He just hoped whatever was going to happen would happen soon, but the night stretched on.

–

As Sheriff Bowers began his speech, Detective Nell’s plane from DC had just taken off, proclaiming that should tonight’s tail winds hold they would arrive in Bangor in an hour and a half. Then he would need to rent a car and drive the rest of the way to Derry. Say about thirty minutes. Based on the information the children had given him was that enough time? He hoped so. He had never hoped for so much in his life until now.

In houses throughout different sections of Derry’s residential neighborhoods the Losers sat with their parents unable to do anything but watch the clock tick away.

–

It was as if something were on the Losers’ side, not that they would know it until later, but Connor and Avery’s match was close, perhaps the closest fight that either of them had gotten into. It lasted the full time possible, only ending when Avery was able to knockout Connor in the final round. The crowd who had longed for blood was surprised at this turn, but no one could say they were displeased. They liked the story of an underdog, so long as it won them money. Ronnie Hockstetter was perhaps the proudest of all. Only Peter Gordon and Marcia seemed upset by the loss.

Eddie saw none of this, only heard the final toll of the bell and Dunning’s proclamation of Hockstetter’s victory.

He saw men pull Connor Bowers from the barn, beaten and used up. No longer the golden boy. He was taken into the house. He may be a loser, but he was Bowers’ kin which demanded more respect than most.

He watched Patrick eye his little brother, nodding in approval before entering the ring. He was met with cheers of approval. Bill was led in, like a man to the gallows. Eddie took a hit of his inhaler. He wanted nothing more than for Bill to come out alright, but nothing could make him enter that barn that night. He supposed a part of him was used up too.

–

Despite the cold air, Bill was sweating before he even entered the barn. The shivers were back too, and as much as he wanted to chalk that up to nerves. He couldn’t. He wasn’t scared, like he should be, he was pissed. Robert had said Bill would like tonight, and perhaps he was right. Bill was going to get payback for all Patrick had done and said that fateful Saturday. The thought of making him bleed thrilled him.

Dunning finished whatever words he had to say, and the bell rang.

–

The forces in Augusta were mobilizing, but they would not arrive for another hour or so. They were supposed to await for Detective Nell from the FBI, but they had not heard from him in the last hour. They could only assume that he was still on schedule.

The tail winds held. Detective Nell was thirty minutes from Bangor. One hour from Derry.

–

Bill had to be careful. He knew that as soon as the fight started. He was weaker than Patrick due to his injuries, and his balance was off kilter because of his ear, playing at a disadvantage his dad would have said. Not only that, but Patrick’s style of fighting naturally gave him an advantage over Bill. But Bill had something that Patrick didn’t. He had his rage. And he intended to use it.

The first round was a blur of jabs and dodges as Bill tried to stay ahead of Patrick’s strikes. He ignored the crowd as they booed and called for blood. He ignored everything but the rush that was singing through his muscles. Although he was off balance and injured he had never felt quite so powerful.

A break was called.

Bill staggered to his corner where Robert was waiting with interested eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” No bite, just a cunning curiosity.

“Winning.”

Robert appraised him before passing the straw through the fence. Bill drank the water down, his mouth still dry from when he had awoken from his nap.

Robert pulled the straw away, water spilling onto the packed earth. “You’d better win. I have too much riding on this.”

Bill nodded, his thoughts already returning to destroying Patrick when the bell rang.

Patrick did his best to stay out of the center, dancing just beyond Bill’s reach, forcing him closer and closer. He managed to get a hit, causing Bill to step back. Patrick pounced. Hit upon hit was pounded into Bill’s torso. He reached out pulling Patrick to him to gain a reprieve. This seemed to be exactly what Patrick wanted.

Softly, below the hissing of the crowd, but loud enough for Bill to hear him, Patrick told him what he had whispered in Stan’s ear that fateful day. The words came out awkwardly around the mouth guard, but Bill heard every single one.

Rage blinded Bill.

It boiled up over the top, causing Bill to push Patrick away. The lanky teen stumbled, falling backwards onto his ass. The crowd’s cries would have been deafening, but all Bill could hear was the pounding in his own head. The world had gone red, and without a thought of tactic or strategy Bill began beating Patrick into the ground.

A small voice, one sounding strangely like Stan, was telling him to stop. That it was enough. This was enough.

And as much as Bill found himself wanting to listen to that voice, he couldn’t.

It was only when the bell rang, and Dunning had to physically pull Bill off Patrick that he stopped. The wrappings over his knuckles were covered in blood. Patrick’s most likely, but he could feel the tender flesh underneath, and he wouldn’t be surprised if some of it had been his own.

His stomach had shrunk to a hard rock sitting in his abdomen, and suddenly he felt ill. Staggering he made it back to Robert, a gleam in the man’s eye.

“Very good, Bill.”

Bill drank the water, his mouth still tasting stale and dried up. The praise should have repulsed him, but Bill felt nothing.

He entered the ring once more, and was surprised when he saw Patrick’s face. Blood streamed over his right eye, matting his hair down. His nose was bent, certainly broken, and blood was coming from there too. His eyes were full of murderous intent. Bill was reminded of the paper he had crumpled without being aware of the damage he had done. He felt sick to his stomach, guilt overriding any of the previous anger. And then Patrick lunged.

–

Eddie heard the screams coming from the barn and tried to close his ears to them. He had been meticulously counting the minutes, listening for the bell. They were in the third round. Had to be when a scream rose out of the barn that seemed like it would never end.

Eddie pulled his coat around him and waited for the night to be over.

–

Patrick screamed as he came for Bill. It sounded odd, like he was underwater, his sinuses all clogged up. He staggered for Bill, aiming his knee for Bill’s diaphragm. The air went out of Bill and that pure unadulterated rage came back without warning. He charged for Patrick, throwing punch after punch. But this time Patrick knew better, and blocked almost every hit.

The bell rang.

Bill went to get more water. He was gasping for it now. Each drink seemed to leave him thirstier and thirstier.

Robert observed this with cool interest.

Across the ring, Patrick’s mother was conferring worriedly with Sheriff Bowers, eyes darting over to Bill and Robert every now and again. She seemed appeased by Bowers, although not happy, and with a single nod to him, she began berating her son.

Bowers watched all this, and as the round began he dropped his hand from where it had been resting around Ronnie’s shoulders to squeeze her scrawny ass.

She turned, fire in her eyes and he shrugged. She knew the risks. There was nothing he could do to stop him. Not now. Realizing this Veronica Hockstetter set her eyes back on the ring while Bowers had his way with her.

–

Round four, halfway through. Funny. Bill should have been exhausted, but it was as if something foreign was surging through his veins pressing him to keep going. And it was a good thing that he kept fighting, if he had knocked out Hockstetter now the evening would have ended long before the FBI and State Police ever could have shown up.

–

The last round, and Bill’s rage was the only thing keeping him going. He thought about Patrick’s hands on Stan. Grasping him. Holding him. Taking away that innocence. Taking what should have been his. The archaic jealousy would have surprised him if he had been in his right mind. After being someone’s possession for so long, Bill never wanted Stan to feel that way… but he was far from his right mind. All he knew was that Patrick had taken what was his.

The bodily pain was nothing compared to the rage. And even after knocking Patrick down he kept kicking his side.

The bell rang. It would be the last time he would ever hear it, but Bill would never forget the sound. It would haunt his nightmares for years. And he would remember this feeling. Pure power and adrenaline and rage. The rage would haunt him longer than the bell ever could.

He was announced the winner and led from the ring. Only instead of feeling victorious, Bill felt hollow. It was only in the deep darkness of the night that Bill began to think on what he had done. He threw up sickened by himself, loathing what he had been turned into. And as the Adrenalin left him, the pain settled back in like an old friend.

–

Detective Nell had just landed in Bangor where a couple of State Police had been stationed to meet him. He was thirty minutes out from Derry, but the darkness which spread before him seemed endless. He could only hope they weren’t too late.

–

Mike wanted to ask what had happened in the ring. Bill had been led out, limping badly, knuckles covered in drying blood. He had been in his own world until a hoarse cry had come from his lips followed by a terrible retching sound. Mike had been led away, and he thought that maybe it was for the best that Georgie wasn’t here tonight.

He entered the ring and found that the ground was covered in dark red blood. He looked up to see Henry Bowers standing in his corner looking at him with mean hard eyes.

Dunning spoke his usual spiel, but in all that time Mike couldn’t look away from Henry. There was something unnerving about the other boy.

They came forward meant to shake hands.

“I remember it, you know.” Henry held Mike’s hand for a moment too long. “The night we burned your family.”

Henry let go, and Mike was left wondering what had happened that night so long ago.

–

The final fight began. It would be the last fight to ever happen on the Bowers’ farm, not that anyone knew that then. It was not nearly as bloody as the previous one, but that was because the cruelness and hate of Henry wasn’t matched or met by that of Mike. Instead it was met with grief, grief which drowned the rage, and that made all the difference.

Mike fought well. He was perhaps the only one in the league with the strength and stamina to withstand Henry’s brutal punches. He held his ground while getting in several hits of his own. It was a close match, and everyone in the crowd knew it.

–

Time was slipping through Nell’s hands as he pushed the needle of the speedometer ever higher. This was their only shot.

–

Over halfway through, and Mike felt bruised and aching. Henry had found his weak spot and had begun to chase after it fearlessly, with little regard for his own defense. Mike thought that Henry was probably trying to finish what he and his old man had started twelve years ago. He wondered why he had not died in that fire. What had kept him alive?

He didn’t have time to think about that now, the bell rang signaling the beginning of the sixth round.

–

Detective Nell met up with the Chief of the Maine State Police on the outskirts of Derry at a little pull off of State Route Two.

“Detective Nell,” The man held out his hand.

“Chief Sullivan,” Nell shook it.

“Wasn’t sure you’d get here in time.”

“Me neither, but something must have been on our sides.”

“I suppose so. Now here’s the maps you asked for,” Chief Sullivan led Nell over to the hood of his car where a deputy held a flashlight so they could see a map of Derry. Chief Sullivan pointed a gloved finger to a series of hills on the outskirts of town. “These hills are all farm land. Old Hanlon farm, here. Rhulin, and Bowers. We are thinking the best course of action is to blockade the road here and here, and move in on the farm.”

“You have the numbers for it I suppose?”

Sullivan nodded. “I have sent several of my men ahead to begin blockading the roads which lead to the farms. There are probably some side roads and access roads, but we don’t intend to let them get that far.”

“And the warrants?”

“No problem getting them once the District Attorney explained things to the judge.”

Nell nodded. “We should go. We don’t have much time.”

Sullivan nodded at his deputies. “We’d like you to ride in with us. Will keep things less messy.”

“Yes, I suppose it will.”

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Detective.”

Nell smiled wanly. “It’s funny. It would have never been brought to my attention had it not been for some children. We owe them a great deal, I think.”

Sullivan nodded. He was interested in meeting these children. They got into the cars and drove towards Sheriff Bowers’ farm. Time was running out, but not for them. Not any longer.

– 

The fight was just about over when the police arrived.

The barn doors were thrown open, and a voice over a loudspeaker announced for everyone to put their hands.

Utter panic ensued then, and Mike couldn’t follow what happened next.

Men and women tried to run, but the doors acted as a funnel, allowing the State Police to begin their arrests. 

Ronnie Hockstetter was one of the first arrested. She had tried to run, claiming that she had to get to her children, but the officers ignored her pleas as they cuffed her. Terry Rhulin tried to creep back to his farm unnoticed, but the Staties had prepared for such eventualities. He was stopped just minutes from his property.

Deputy Borton managed to take on some of the officers, before being subdued. He could be heard shouting amid the chaos that they would be sorry and that they had the wrong man. Macklin had left his children, trying to save his own neck, but didn’t make it much farther than Ronnie Hockstetter before being arrested.

Victor Criss, Belch Huggins, Marcia McFadden were scooped up as easily as fish in a net. Peter Gordon had hidden like the coward he was, and when he was pulled from his hiding spot in the loft of one of the barns he started offering to pay the cash he had received from bets placed to be let go. When that didn’t work, he began to cry for his father, promising that they would all be sorry. That he came from money and deserved to be treated better. Bradley Donovan had sunk into the chaos and left unnoticed, but later Eddie would testify to what Bradley had told him and he would be sent away like the others. 

A couple people made it as far as to their cars, but were stopped by the blockade, and arrested. Alvin Marsh was one of them. He tried to reason with the officers, telling them that he had to get back to his daughter as he was the only parent who had stuck around. They were unimpressed by his speech, and so desperately he swung at them. Of course this only made things worse. 

These blockade arrests also included Norbert Keene, who had done so well to keep a low profile up until that point. When his car was examined, they found boxes of myaditribolic-3, an experimental supplement meant to emulate the effects of anabolic steroids but on an increased timetable. It was illegal to deal, as it had no FDA approval, and once it was found in the kitchen at the house of Neibolt Street and in Bill Denbrough’s system, drug dealing was added to the list of charges. But what would really seal his fate was when they found kiddie porn on his computer the next day.

Chief Sullivan had the great pleasure of putting the cuffs on Sheriff Bowers, telling him that he was under arrest for running an illegal fighting ring, endangering the welfare of minors, and that anything he said could be used against him in a court of law.

Nell moved through the crowd, and found Robert Gray watching the world burn around his feet. He was like a sleepwalker unaware of his surroundings but clearly in a state of hell. Nell pulled a set of cuffs from where they were stored, the metal gleaming in the unnatural light of the barn.

“Robert Gray?”

Gray turned to him, disbelief apparent in his eyes.

“I’m Detective Nell, FBI. You are under arrest for endangerment of minors, conspiracy to kidnap –”

Robert Gray woke up then.

“I have never kidnapped anyone –”

“Save it for the court.”

Nell tightened the cuffs, perhaps too tightly, and led Robert away. Once he had been safely deposited into one of the paddy wagons awaiting to take the prisoners to the closest town over for processing Nell moved to his second task of finding the children.

Ambulances had arrived within the chaos almost unnoticed, and he found that several officers were already loaded up with various fighters chained to gurneys. A boy with long dark hair, blood caked into it, and an obviously broken nose stared at him with hateful eyes as the door closed.

Mike Hanlon was in an ambulance when Detective Nell crossed his path. Although he had suffered few injuries that night, the EMTs still wanted to take him in for observation. He raised his head when he saw the FBI agent.

“Detective Nell?”

The older man approached the ambulance. “That’s me, boyo.”

“Could you make sure that Mr. Halloran knows where I’ll be?” Mike asked.

Nell smiled. “Certainly.”

“And if it’s not too much trouble, would you find Eddie and Bill? I haven’t seen them, and they won’t let me go looking for them. Please –”

“It will be alright, Mike. I’ll go look for them now.”

Mike nodded, and allowed the paramedics to close the ambulance door and drive off.

Nell moved around the mostly emptied back yard. The chaos of arrests was over. But there was still a lot of aftermath to be sorted through, and Nell knew first hand that that could be even more messy than the arrests.

He found who he supposed to be Eddie Kaspbrak sitting by an outbuilding. A young police officer was sitting with him trying to calm him down.

“Sir,” he said upon noticing Nell’s approach.

“Eddie Kaspbrak?”

Eddie looked up, jolting like a startled animal.

“Mike told me to look for you.”

“Is he alright?” Eddie tripped over his words. “I haven’t seen him and I worried that he had been taken away –”

“He’s gone to the hospital – just for observation. He’ll be alright.”

“What about Bill?” 

“I haven’t found him yet,” Nell said. “It is possible that he is already on his way to the hospital.”

“Please I need to find –” Eddie stopped. “Georgie. Oh god. Georgie.”

“Georgie?” The young officer asked.

“Bill’s younger brother. He’s –” Gasp. “– he’s at the house –” Another one. “locked in the fucking attic.”

Nell nodded at the officer. “Tell Sullivan that you’ve gone to get the boy. 29 Neibolt Street, Derry. Take as many men as you need, and bring the child to Derry Hospital.”

“Sir.”

The young officer departed as Eddie struggled with his inhaler.

“Come on, lad. Let’s get you into an ambulance. You’re in shock.”

Eddie looked a little bewildered. “Bill – he’s – he looked awful. I’ve never seen anyone look like that before – I –”

“I’ll find him. Don’t you worry about it. Now come along.”

Nell led Eddie to an ambulance and explained the situation to the paramedic waiting there. She nodded and began checking Eddie’s vitals. Nell waited to be sure the boy would be alright before setting off to find Bill.

He checked in with Sullivan who was acting as a sort of air traffic control, noting everyone who was going in and out of the crime scene with a precision that was much to be admired.

“Has anyone taken a Bill Denbrough to the hospital?”

Sullivan checked his lists. He shook his head. “It’s possible he was one of the first out, I didn’t have as much of a handle on things when this all began.”

“You did fine,” Nell said.

“I’ll have someone call the hospital to see if he or anyone matching his description has been admitted.”

Nell nodded.

He waited as a junior officer made the call, shaking her head that no no one matching Bill’s description had been admitted.

Nell frowned. He ordered some men to start searching the property beginning with the out buildings which had largely been ignored up until now. It wasn’t long before there was a shout that sent fear into Nell’s heart. He ran from where he had been searching, praying that it wasn’t too late.

Bill was passed out, arm unnaturally pulled back from his body, chained to a post. The area smelled strongly of vomit, and there was some watery looking bile on the boy’s chin and chest. An officer ran and returned with bolt cutters cutting the chain of the handcuff. Nell picked the teen up and took him over to the last remaining ambulance.

The paramedics jumped into action, pushing Nell’s unknowing hands out of the way as they began checking his airway and searching for a pulse.

He was about to leave the scene in Sullivan’s more than capable hands and go over to the house on Neibolt where his own investigation lay when he remembered one last promise. He called Halloran first.

“Hello?” The voice was tired with worry.

“Your godson is as Derry Hospital. He’s alright, they just want to keep him for observation. He’s been through quite a lot. I am sure they won’t allow you to see him tonight, and there are going to be lots of questions and paperwork in the coming days. You should get your rest.”

“You know I can’t do that. He’s needed me these past twelve years and where have I been? Florida. I’m going to that hospital. Let them turn me away.”

“Alright, old man. I’ll be in touch when I can.”

“Thanks. I mean it. Everything you did for those kids… I’ll never have enough words to thank you.”

Nell smiled. “I’ll be in touch.”

He hung up the phone before making another call.

“Detective Nell?”

“Hello, Maggie.”

“Did you –”

“Yes. I thought I should let you know that the children are all accounted for. Mike will be in the hospital tonight for observation. Bill will probably be there for longer. As for Eddie I am unsure. He and Georgie will be needing…” Here Nell was unsure. After all they had been through what didn’t these boys need?

“Anything. You know already –”

“Yes of course. I don’t think that is something we need to worry about tonight. These next few days will be full of paperwork and cases. But tonight I think they will need somewhere to stay. Social services has yet to be called, you see?”

“I understand.”

Nell could have called social services as soon as he had arrived on Maine soil, but he had held off and Maggie suspected that she knew why. The night had been traumatic enough, and throwing these children back into the machine that was the foster system was not necessary. They could hold off a day, let the children have a break. Although with Maggie and Arlene's plans to think of, perhaps they would never need to see the foster system again.

“I am glad. I will call the hospital and let them know that you and your husband will be by presently.”

“Thank you –”

“Enough. There will be time for that once this is all done. And would you mind spreading the good news to the others? I still have an investigation to begin.”

“Of course. Thank you, Detective.”

Maggie hung up the phone.

Nell strode across the ground to begin the next part of his journey. The night stretched ever onward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so excited to share this chapter with you all, and I hope it was what you were waiting for! It feels good to finally have it out in the world. Please leave a comment below as they mean so much to me. I want to know your favorite part(s)! Any predictions or things you wished would have happened? Tell me everything.  
> Thank you for the constant support. (I will be posting several more things this December so be sure you subscribe for updates!)  
> Fondly YRS.  
> TWoW


	28. Chapter 28

After hanging up the phone with Nell, Maggie called Andrea to tell her the news. Next she called Ben’s Aunt’s house. The phone rang and rang until someone picked it up, presumably Aunt Jean based on the grouchy female voice that greeted her.

“Do you have any idea the hour?”

“I’m so sorry. Is Arlene in?”

“She was called off to the hospital. Apparently there’s been a kerfuffle out on Bowers’ farm.” Her voice was hot with interest.

Maggie dismissed the questioning lead for gossip and said instead, “may I speak to Ben?”

“Ben?”

“It’s rather important,” Maggie said, quickly losing her patience.

Aunt Jean muttered something about how it was always something before going to get Ben. Moments later he greeted Maggie with much more politeness than his aunt.

“Hi, Mrs. Tozier.”

“Hello, Ben dear. I suppose your mother told the news before she left?”

“Not really. All she said was that there was an emergency out on the Bowers farm and the hospital needed her to come in.”

“Well they got them,” Maggie said, tears prickled at her eyes.

“All of them?”

“Presumably.”

“Beverly’s father?”

Maggie paused. “Yes. I suppose him too.”

“Oh, okay. Good. I mean.”

“Ben. You should call Beverly. Invite her over. CPS won’t be called until tomorrow. She shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

“Aunt Jean would have a cow if I had her over this late.”

“Tell your Aunt it’s extenuating circumstances. I am sure your mother would agree.”

Ben thought it over. “Alright. Thank you Mrs. Tozier.”

Maggie hung up the phone and let out a breath.

“Ready to go?” Wentworth asked.

Maggie nodded.

“I still think I should get to come,” Richie said from the couch.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. Things will be complicated enough there, I don’t want you getting tangled up in it.”

“But –”

“Richard,” Wentworth said. “Your mother said no.”

Richie fell quiet.

Maggie leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “You’ve done so well, my love. But this is work for grown ups. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Richie huffed, but he knew better than to protest. He watched his parents leave, before radioing Stan. Misery liked its company.

–

Maggie and Wentworth met Halloran in the downstairs lobby. He had not even gotten past the front desk.

“You haven’t been allowed up?” Wentworth asked.

“Afraid not. It’s not visiting hours. I tried to explain, but –” here Halloran shrugged. How do you explain that your godson you haven’t seen for twelve years because he was presumed dead has been fighting in illegal fight rings without sounding insane? You don’t.

Luckily, Arlene came down.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here. They’re with me,” she said to the guard on duty.

“Mrs. Hanscom –”

“Hush, Petey. It has to do with what happened out on Bowers’ farm tonight.”

Petey looked at the folks standing in his lobby before nodding. “Aight. Just this once.”

Arlene smiled brightly at him, thanking him as he passed out visitor badges, before leading them to the elevators. 

“I just can’t handle them all at once.” She said somewhat apologetically.

“Who, Arlene, the children?” Maggie asked.

Arlene shook here head, “it’s not them. Lord bless them. No. It’s the fact that they have questions, and the other nurses have questions, and the doctors have questions, and the police have questions and I feel like I’m the only one with my wits left. I need a moment with Eddie. I promised him that I would talk to him when he arrived, but with everything going on I’m afraid he’s been waiting for quite awhile. You see Perri, the paramedic who came in with him showed me –”

The elevator door opened and whatever Arlene had been about to say was lost in the chaos of the floor. Police men stood outside several doors talking to each other or the nurses trying to find out when they could talk to the patients.

Maggie shivered at the sight of the armed police inside a hospital. It felt wildly anachronistic. She wanted to laugh.

“– Mike is in that room there. We want to keep him overnight, just to make sure he’s okay. Then I figured we’d release him to you,” Arlene was saying to Halloran. “Detective Nell will be able to talk to the caseworkers. I’m sure. But he would probably love to hear from you if you don’t mind.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Halloran said, laying a gentle hand on Arlene’s shoulder. He left them to go talk to his godson.

“What about the Denbroughs?” Maggie asked. They were the real reason she had come out tonight.

“Bill’s doing poorly. I’ve let Doctor Cho in on the situation and your plan. She’s happy to talk to you about it once they are done with some tests. It seemed that there were some complications,” Arlene huffed. “He was drugged.”

“What?”

“We don’t know with what yet. I have informed Nell since he went to the house. But we haven’t heard yet. Until then we aren’t sure how to proceed, other than to begin with pumping his stomach.”

“Christ,” Wentworth said softly.

“And Georgie?”

“He’s in an examination room. Badly traumatized. The police woman who brought him in said they found him locked in the attic. It doesn’t look like he’s had much to eat. He’s been nonverbal since arriving.”

Maggie and Wentworth exchanged concerned looks.

“I’ll leave you here for Doctor Cho. I really must go talk to Eddie. It’s just…”

“It will be alright, Arlene.” Maggie said, taking the other woman’s hand in her own. She squeezed it tightly.

Arlene smiled. “Thank you.”

Maggie and Wentworth sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chairs awaiting the arrival of Doctor Cho.

–

Arlene entered the private exam room, shutting the door behind her.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Mrs. Hanscom.”

“Please, call me Arlene. I’m afraid I have to have a difficult conversation with you now. Can you handle it? Or would you prefer to wait?”

Eddie frowned. After all that had happened tonight he would have liked to wait, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle it later. It seemed better to get it out in the open, whatever it was, while he was coping with everything else. “I can handle it.”

“Do you know what a placebo is?” Arlene asked.

Eddie nodded. He had learned about placebos and double blinds in a science class sophomore year. It seemed strange for Ben’s mom to be bringing this up now.

“The medication you were on, that your godfather put you on, well…” Arlene wrung her hands together wishing that this were easier. “Let’s go back. What sort of medication are you on?”

“Asthma medication, propothyoucil for my metabolism, prednisone, Vitamin K, Vitamin C, Vitamin E, Zinc tablets –”

“Right. Well some of those things like vitamins just improve general health, rather than treat certain diseases or symptoms right?”

“Sure.”

“Great. It’s good for people to take those, but you’re probably too young to worry about that.”

Eddie started to protest.

“Please, let me finish. I’m sure your godfather allowed you to believe that you may need some of those things, that the supplements will help, but that isn’t the case. You are a healthy boy. There is no need to worry about your metabolism, or taking all those vitamins, or the prednisone. Or the inhaler.”

Eddie tried to comprehend her words, but struggled with their implications. “What do you mean?”

“You aren’t sick, Eddie. The pills, the ones that needed a prescription they’re placebos. Even the inhaler.”

“No that can’t –”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You’re wrong.”

“When Perri took your vitals she had you do a spirometry test, remember?”

Eddie nodded.

“We use those to test the amount of blockage in your airways. We then looked at your medication, Eddie. It’s just water and camphor for taste.”

“It can’t – I –” Eddie was gasping.

“Breathe through it, it’s a conditioned effect. You’re hyperventilating.”

Eddie found that despite the panic and fear, he was able to gain control of his breathing without the use of his inhaler. When he regained his composure he asked, “the pills were they all placebos?”

She nodded. “Nothing but sugar pills. Can I have one of the bottles?”

He handed it over, curious to see how she knew.

She peeled the prescription label off, beneath it was one which identified the pills for what they were. 

“So I’m not sick?” Eddie asked.

“No.”

In that moment Eddie felt a weight being lifted from his shoulders, one that he had lived with his whole life, had never acknowledged up until this point. The relief overshadowed everything for just a second, before the anger came flooding back.

“Why would he lie?”

Arlene bit her lip. There was a much more difficult question to answer. And as Eddie began to cry she moved to sit with him. Arlene held him, and when he was ready she began to talk about how abusers manipulated their victims in order to keep power over them. It wasn’t a pleasant conversation, but with Arlene’s soft tone and comforting touches they got through it.

–

Maggie was asleep on Went’s shoulder when Doctor Cho approached. He shook her awake.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie said, the sleep still in her voice.

“Not to worry, Arlene filled me in on everything.” Doctor Cho said. “Bill has had his stomach pumped, the contents were sent to the lab to be tested. However, we have received a call from the police saying that myaditribolic-3 was found both on persons at the fight and in the house Bill has been living in.”

“What is that?” Wentworth asked.

“It’s a synthetic drug meant to be used as an anabolic steroid; however, the rate the body can metabolize the drug is much quicker.”

“Steroid?” Maggie asked.

“It would appear Bill was dosed up. It’s probably what kept him fighting for so long.”

“Christ,” Wentworth said.

“The good news is that due to the body’s rate of metabolizing the drug it has a very short half life. The effects shouldn’t be in his system for too long. However, he’s going to need to stay in the hospital several more days. We need to monitor his previous injuries, as well as look at his hands. He’s sustained quite a bit of damage to his fists.”

“And his brother?”

“I wasn’t his primary physician; however, he seems severely traumatized, and is in want of a good meal.”

“Can we see him?” Maggie asked.

“Sure. He’s currently in exam room C-2 in the pediatrics ward.”

–

In a daze, Maggie and Wentworth left the waiting room and went to the pediatrics ward. After speaking with some nurses who needed to confer with Arlene they were finally led to exam room C-2.

Sitting on the cot, juice box in hand was Georgie Denbrough. There was dust in his hair and on his clothes. He looked tired and scared. Maggie went in first, while Wentworth waited by the door.

“Hi, Georgie, do you remember me?”

Georgie frowned, but a moment later he nodded.

“This is my husband, Wentworth,” Maggie said, gesturing for her husband to enter the room.

“Hey, Georgie.” Wentworth offered the child the smile he reserved for students who were intimidated by his class, but still came to his office hours for help. They always held a special place in his heart, and he sensed Georgie would too.

“Have the nurses told you everything that happened tonight?” Maggie asked.

Georgie nodded.

“Good. Well, we want to bring you home tonight if you’re alright with that.”

Georgie looked between the two of them before shaking his head.

“Can I ask you why not?” Maggie asked.

Georgie shrugged.

“You don’t have to come home with us if you don’t want to, but you need to stay somewhere. Is there somewhere you would prefer?”

Georgie shrugged.

“I know you’ve been through a lot, but in order to do what’s best for you we need you to speak for yourself,” Wentworth said, kneeling before the kid. “So where would you like to stay?”

Georgie looked at him for a long moment before changing his gaze to the hall. 

“With Bill?” Maggie interpreted.

Georgie nodded.

“Bill needs to stay in the hospital for observation, but I promise we can bring you back here to visit him as soon as he has visiting hours,” Wentworth said. “Or if you want to stay with someone else’s parents that’s okay too.”

Georgie thought for a moment before shaking his head. Wentworth looked to Maggie.

“No you don’t want to stay somewhere else?” Maggie asked.

Georgie nodded.

“You want to come home with us then?”

He nodded again.

“Yeah?” Wentworth asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright, we’ll just finish up some paperwork to discharge you,” Maggie said.

“Do you want one of us to stay with you?” Wentworth asked.

Georgie nodded.

Maggie looked to Wentworth, in a silent conversation.

“Alright, Georgie, I’ll go fill out paperwork and Went will stay here. I’ll be back soon,” Maggie said, giving the child a reassuring smile.

She went to the nurse’s station to fill out Georgie’s discharge paperwork when Arlene came to find her.

“Hey, Jean just called me to say Beverly’s over there now,” Arlene said, the frazzled tone was back.

“I’m sorry, that was us. I didn’t think it would be a good idea for her to be alone tonight with her father’s arrest –”

“No, of course not. It’s just there isn’t a lot of room at Jean’s which is why I want to move – but beside that – would you mind taking Eddie, until Bev’s mom can be found?” Arlene asked.

Maggie smiled, “of course not. We have plenty of room, and it might be good for them to have some familiarity during this transition.”

Arlene nodded, “of course. I’ll get Eddie’s paperwork. He’s in a bit of a fragile state right now as I told him that Robert has been lying to him about being chronically ill.”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “He’s been doing what?”

“Feeding the boy nothing but sugar pills and filling his head with ideas that he’s going to die if he doesn’t take them,” Arlene said.

“Jesus.”

“I’ve given him some breathing exercises that are meant to help with the hyperventilating, so if he goes into a panic could you just remind him to slow his breathing and try to regain control?”

“Of course,” Maggie said.

“I’ll write some of it out for you, let me go get his paperwork,” Arlene said.

Maggie finished up with Georgie’s paperwork, and soon Arlene was back with Eddie following her.

While Maggie filled out more paperwork she glanced over at Eddie. His head hung low, and his eyes were rimmed red from crying. Her heart swelled looking at him, and she saw him as Arlene did. A perfectly healthy young man. The amount of love in her doubled, and she had to turn back to the paperwork so as not to draw attention to the tears coming to her eyes. With a flourish she signed the bottom of the document.

“Hey, Eddie,” Maggie said.

“Hi Mrs. Tozier,” Eddie said, not looking at her.

“Please, dear, it’s Maggie.”

Eddie nodded.

“I hope you’re okay staying with us for the night. We can come check in on Bill tomorrow during visiting hours if you’d like?” 

Eddie nodded again. “Yes please.”

“Perfect, but tonight we need to get our rest,” Maggie said. “Let’s go get Georgie.”

“Georgie is staying with you?” Eddie asked, looking at her for the first time.

“Yes.”

They swung by room C-2, and Wentworth and Georgie joined them. The adults led the way, and as they walked Wentworth murmured something about making food at home for the kid – not that he would have ever asked for it, but his tummy had rumbled several times during the wait. Maggie smiled and said that she thought that could be arranged.

They drove through the darkened streets of Derry until they reached their home, the only one with the outdoor lights on so late at night.

Richie was waiting up for them. As soon as Eddie entered, he ran to Richie and collapsed into his arms. Richie looked alarmed, before glancing to his parents.

“I’m starving,” Maggie said lightly. “How about some late night breakfast for dinner?”

Georgie looked at her curiously.

“Sounds great,” Wentworth said, yawning. “Think I could do with some coffee.”

“Decaf, or you’ll be up all night,” Maggie teased.

Wentworth laughed and followed her into the kitchen.

“Hey, everything alright?” Richie asked as Eddie pulled away from him.

Eddie shook his head, unsure how to explain everything that had happened tonight.

“That’s okay, we have time. You’re safe, Eds. You never have to see that man ever again.”

And as much as Eddie wanted to believe him, he couldn’t quite allow himself to trust that Robert wouldn’t some how gain custody of him again. After all, Robert was his godfather – although what god had to do with it, Eddie had his doubts. Still he couldn’t entirely let down his guard. If he did the disappointment of having to go back would kill him.

“Hiya, King George,” Richie said, looking over to where Georgie stood awkwardly in the middle of the foyer. “I suppose we should get you a shower and clean clothes, you look dusty as all get out. What were you doing rolling around in a dust bath like a chinchilla?”

“Richie!” Eddie elbowed him.

“Sorry, just trying to get a smile. But that’s alright. How about it, Georgie? While the ‘rents are cooking food you could get a nice hot shower?”

Georgie nodded.

Richie beamed. “Let me show you the way to our finest accommodations.”

Georgie cracked the hint of a smile, and Eddie knew that for tonight at least they were going to be alright.

–

Georgie felt much better after the shower, and although he swam in his borrowed pajamas, they were still the warmest and softest clothes he had ever worn. Little did he know that Maggie had popped them into the dryer for ten minutes before leaving them on the sink in the bathroom.

Maggie and Wentworth smiled at him as he came into the kitchen. Richie and Eddie were already sitting at the breakfast bar talking softly with one another.

“We made pancakes, hope that’s alright with you,” Maggie said.

Georgie nodded, he could feel himself salivating at the thought.

“And bacon,” Wentworth added.

Maggie smiled, “that too. Would you like juice? Milk?”

Georgie nodded.

“Which one,” Maggie asked, going to the fridge.

Georgie held up two fingers.

“Milk?”

He nodded.

“Sounds good.” Maggie said, pulling the carton from the fridge.

She poured him a glass of milk, before making up a plate of two pancakes, three pieces of bacon, and a small cup of cut up fruit.

“What about you, Eddie?” Wentworth asked.

“Huh?”

“Anything to drink?”

“Just water.”

“One water coming up,” Wentworth winked.

Wentworth and Maggie finished serving up the plates and passed them out to Eddie and Richie before sitting down themselves.

Maggie let out a content sigh watching her boys eat. Tiredly she rested her head in the cup of her hand. Sleep pulled heavily at her eyes, but there was still so much to do to get Eddie and Georgie settled for the night. She stifled a yawn.

Wentworth glanced up at her. “ _See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. / O, that I were a glove upon that hand / That I might touch that cheek!_ ”

“Gross, dad,” Richie said.

“What, a man can’t quote _Romeo and Juliet_ to his wife when she’s looking especially beautiful?”

Richie gagged, but his parents merely laughed.

Eddie was impressed. Perhaps if Richie had inherited a little more of Wentworth’s charm and less of his theatrics he would have been more well adjusted, but Eddie couldn’t find himself complaining. He liked Richie just the way he was. He only realized his jaw was still open when Georgie elbowed him gently between the ribs. 

Eddie snapped it shut before asking, “do you have all of R&J memorized?”

Wentworth looked taken aback before letting out a laugh that was all Richie’s. “No. Just the good stuff, I’m afraid.”

“Which means all of it,” Richie said.

Eddie smiled at that.

After they had finished eating, Maggie led them into the guest bedroom. In the center of the room was a large queen bed with a fluffy white duvet and a throw blanket at it’s foot. Maggie busied herself by taking the throw pillows off the bed as the boys went to brush their teeth. When they returned, Maggie could see how sleepy they were.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing,” she said.

“No, that’s alright. Thank you,” Eddie said through a yawn.

Both boys crawled into bed, and although Eddie was much too old to be tucked in, Maggie tucked him in anyway. As she was finishing up Wentworth came in with a thick book under his arm.

“I know it’s late, but I thought I might read to the kid,” he said to his wife.

Maggie looked back at the boys, already buried under the covers, before nodding. She thought some escapism might be a good thing. She left to go close up the rest of the house.

“Hey, Eddie, Georgie. I brought _The Fellowship of the Ring_. Richie thought you might enjoy it,” Wentworth said, coming to sit on the side of the bed.

Eddie smiled. “That sounds great.”

Georgie’s eyes seemed to shine in the dim light, and Eddie wondered if he was thinking about Bill and their beat up copy of _The Hobbit_ back on Neibolt. But he didn’t follow that train of thought long, because Wentworth had begun reading.

Wentworth had a rich, warm tone, which seemed to come from his chest. It filled the room with Tolkien's descriptions, and whenever a new character spoke he changed his voice. As Eddie listened he felt as if he were seeing into Richie’s future. One day, Richie might be reading to his kids just like this. A bright warmth bloomed in Eddie’s chest at the thought. Wentworth read on. No matter how well he brought the story to life, there was no denying the late hour. And eventually both Eddie and Georgie had fallen asleep.

Wentworth laid the book on the bedside table before turning the light out. He got up, his back aching and made it to the door where Maggie had been standing.

“How long were you – ?”

But she shook her head and just looked at the two sleeping children. Her heart went out to them and she hoped they were having sweet dreams.

Eventually she allowed Wentworth to take her her hand and lead her back to their room.

– 

At some point in the night Eddie got up and found his way to Richie’s room.

“Hey, you awake?” Eddie asked.

Richie turned over in his bed. “Eds?”

“Can I sleep in here? Do you think your parents would mind? It’s just –”

“C’mon, Eds. I won’t bite.”

Eddie padded across the floor before climbing into Richie’s double. He curled up as close as he could to Richie, enjoying the feeling of Richie’s ribs expanding and contracting underneath him.

“Get some sleep, Eddie. It’s been a long day.”

Eddie allowed himself to relax as he fell asleep curled in Richie’s arms.

–

Down the hall, Georgie was having a nightmare. He moaned out in his sleep, kicking the blankets off of him in the process.

A light turned on.

Maggie rose and went to see what was going on. As she passed Richie’s room she could see two lumps curled up together, so she wasn’t surprised when she found Georgie alone in the guest room. The tiny boy looked so small in the queen bed. She sat on the mattress, shaking him gently.

His eyes widened, his arms coming up to cover his face. The defensive gesture broke her heart.

“Shh, Georgie. It’s alright now. You’re safe.”

Georgie’s eyes began to fill with tears.

Maggie pulled him gently into her lap, holding him as he cried. “It was just a dream. Nothing can hurt you here.”

Georgie continued to cry as she just held him making soothing sounds under her breath. Slowly he allowed himself to be comforted.

“How are you doing? Better?” Maggie asked.

Georgie nodded.

“Let’s get you tucked back in.” Maggie shifted Georgie off her lap and back into bed. She pulled the blankets up around him, tucking him in. “Would you like me to read to you?”

Georgie nodded.

Maggie got in the other side of the bed and pulled the book which Wentworth had started earlier that evening. Her voice wasn’t so dramatic, but she brought the story to life in a different way. As she read, Georgie could feel his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. There was soft hypnotic quality to her voice which just set him at ease. The story no longer seemed exciting, but instead soothing. Like a good dream.

Georgie was out like a light.

Maggie closed the book and returned it to the bedside table. She looked down on Georgie. Her heart was so full of love right now. Silently she got up and turned out the light before going back to her own bed.

“How is he?” Wentworth asked.

“He’s going to be alright. I think we all are.”

Wentworth smiled.

It wasn’t long before the whole house was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support on the last chapter! It means so much. Please continue to let me know your thoughts below! I love reading and responding to you all.   
> One more chapter until a brief hiatus til the New Year. I hope you're ready! (Also be sure to follow @theweaverofworlds-official on tumblr for writing updates.)  
> YRS.  
> TWoW


	29. Chapter 29

The next morning at the hospital, Bill woke to find a strange man beside him.

“W-who are you?” The words were groggy and thick with sleep.

“Hi, Bill. Name’s Wentworth, I’m Richie’s dad.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Was waiting for you to wake up. How much do you remember from last night?”

Bill closed his eyes as he tried to think, he remember the lights how they had burned his eyes. The way his heart had pounded in a way that was both foreign and entirely him. How that otherness had frightened him, but how he craved it too. The taste of salt in his mouth, a mixture of his sweat and blood, and the bell. The ringing was perhaps what he remembered best, it was as if it lay buried within his tinnitus and the two could not be separated. But how could he say all that to this stranger?

“Not much.”

Wentworth nodded. “That’s alright. We got them, Bill. Robert Gray is being questioned by the FBI as we speak.”

Bill tried to sit up, but Wentworth wouldn’t let him. “Steady there.”

“Where are the others?”

“Currently? They’re visiting Mike as he is about to be discharged into his godfather’s care. I told them I would wait with you here.”

“And G-Georgie?”

“He’s going to be alright, Bill. He stayed with us last night.”

Bill brought the back of his arm to his eyes to wipe away the dampness there. The relief which flooded his body shook him. They were out. He did not know what would come next, but it would not be Robert. Bill scrubbed his face roughly with his good hand. He turned to find that Wentworth had once more picked up his book so as Bill could have a moment to himself.

“Thank you,” Bill said, his voice choked by an emotion he could not define – to define it would limit it and thus do it a great disservice.

Wentworth set his book down, “you are very welcome.”

Once Bill was able to manage his emotions a bit more he studied Wentworth. The professor looked stunningly unlike a professor, which Bill supposed made sense as it was a Sunday. The lanky man before him, was folded as much as he could so as to fit into the small visitor’s chair the hospital provided. He was wearing blue jeans and a faded college hoodie and ball cap. On his lap Shirley Jackson’s _The Haunting of Hill House_. Wentworth caught Bill eyeing the faded book and asked, “have you read it?”

Bill nodded.

“Really? For school?”

Bill shook his head, “my mom. She loved it. I loaned it from a library in Vegas to feel closer to her.”

Wentworth’s expression didn’t immediately change to pity as Bill might have expected, instead it was one of profound understanding. “And did you feel closer to her?”

Bill shrugged. “I don’t know. Not really. It wasn’t what I was expecting.”

Wentworth’s lips quirked, but he said nothing, inviting Bill to continue.

“The way the house possessed Eleanor, it wasn’t as scary as I thought it would.”

“Ah.”

“It was like slipping into a pool of water. You think you know how deep it goes, but it’s only after you’ve been swimming for awhile that you realize you’re drowning or perhaps you’ve been caught in a riptide, and by then there’s nothing you can do. It’s too late. And in some ways that makes it worse. Because you can’t be saved. No matter how hard you swim, you’ll only drown faster.”

Wentworth looked grave. “ _Hill House_ is certainly that. It lulls you into a false sense of security at times, while still managing to shock. Shirley Jackson is a master of her craft. But I think it’s important to know that even if you feel like you are going mad, there will be others there to catch you.”

Bill frowned. “They couldn’t save her.”

Wentworth looked thoughtful. “No. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be saved.”

And Bill realized that the conversation, like the pool he had described, had unfathomed depths. On the surface they were talking about poor, mad, Eleanor Crain whose fate is inescapable. Bill had showed his hand in his argument, and Wentworth had realized that Bill thought his fate just as inescapable. Sure, they had escaped Robert, but Bill didn’t believe he would ever be free of the darkness he had forced himself to endure in order to protect Georgie. His actions were impure, and he did not believe himself capable of redemption.

“Bill, I’m going to tell you something important. What has happened will shape you, but you must choose whether to use that pain and anger to improve yourself or whether it will define you. A volcano may erupt, burying a city in ash and fire, but the soil there becomes rich and fertile because of the volcano. Only you can choose whether to stay and cultivate the land, or whether to flee. Do you understand?”

And wasn’t that the question Bill always came up against: to stay and work or to flee in hopes of something better.

Wentworth watched Bill, the silent way he was thinking. He saw much of himself in the bowed head, the way the nimble fingers worried at the edge of the blanket. He thought Bill might like to read _Candide_. It was a silly book, almost unbearable in Wentworth’s mind, but the lesson it held at the end was worth it. Voltaire suggests that there is nothing better in the world than to work and tend your own garden and there you will find your happiness. He was about to ask Bill if he had read _Candide_ when they were interrupted.

“Bill!”

Eddie came rushing in first, words spilling out faster than Bill could keep up with. But it was Georgie who launched himself onto Bill’s bed. The air was briefly knocked from him, but even Maggie and Wentworth knew better than to keep the brothers from one another. Georgie curled up in Bill’s arms, burying his head in the crook of his brother’s shoulder. Bill had been momentarily surprised, but he wrapped his arms around Georgie and held him.

“Oh my goodness,” standing at the door with a rueful smile was Dr. Cho. The adults moved over so she could step into the room, “how are you feeling today, Bill?”

“A little out of it.”

“That’s not surprising based on what you’ve gone through,” Dr. Cho said checking his charts. “We want to keep you for one more day of observation, and then we’ll release you to the Toziers who will be taking care of you for the time being, if you’re okay with that? Otherwise we can make other arrangements.”

Bill looked to Eddie and Georgie, it was obvious that they wanted to stay with the Toziers but were awaiting Bill’s confirmation. He knew if he said that he would prefer something else then Georgie and Eddie would follow his lead. He smiled a crooked smile and told Dr. Cho that staying with the Toziers sounded wonderful. For now he would stay and see what he could grow in the fertile earth.

Dr. Cho nodded before leaving, and allowing Eddie and Georgie to catch him up on everything which had happened. Maggie and Wentworth stayed out of the way and watched the entire thing with tears in their eyes.

Bill didn’t realize until after they left that Wentworth had left his book on Bill’s bedside table. He picked it up with a smile, and began reading it from the start.

–

After being discharged from the hospital, Mike and Halloran took a drive through Derry. It was different in the daylight without Robert. It was like the town had been meticulously replaced. Everything looked just as it was meant to, but it was cleaner and brighter than it had been before. Mike noticed things he never had, perhaps the fear had clouded his senses, but now he saw Derry for what it was: his future. The streets lined with tidy little houses held none of their former shadows or terror. There was still much Mike had to work through, take stock and inventory of his emotions, but right now he couldn’t help but enjoy the sunshine on his skin, the quiet jazz on the radio.

“I’ve rented a house here,” Dick said as they turned off the main street. “I don’t know if you want to stay or for how long, but I figured we could do better than the Townhouse.”

He didn’t tell Mike that Mrs. Kersch had been brought in for questioning this morning in regards to Mike’s kidnapping. There would be time to discuss that later.

Mike nodded. He was struggling to comprehend the future which lay ahead. For so long all he had known about his parents had been a lie, and know he wanted nothing but the truth. This town was the closest link he had to them, and he was determined to find whatever afterimages remained of Will and Jessica Hanlon.

“And I want you to know that you don’t have to keep the property. We can do whatever you want with it. It is yours.” Dick continued.

“Thank you. But I want to keep it.”

“Oh?”

“I want to stay here and fix it up,” Mike said.

Dick smiled. “Alright, then.”

They pulled in front of a small yellow clapboard house. A car with New York plates was already in the driveway.

“What’s this?” Mike asked.

“Well until we can fix up the property, this is going to be home. I hope that’s okay.”

Mike had tears in his eyes. Already he was in love with the little house, so different from the one he had been staying in before. “It’s more than okay.”

“Good. I had some friends come and start cleaning it up, and there’s something else you should know,” Halloran said, getting out of the car.

But before he could finish his statement a big dog came running for them. He was barking, but not in a threatening way. It was rather cheerful, resonant and enthusiastic in the way dogs are. The dog careened into Mike, causing him to lose his footing and fall down. The dog sniffed at him, his tail thumping ecstatically.

Mike could see that there were cataracts in the big beast’s eyes, he was probably near blind, and his muzzle was streaked with white, but he recognized the dog immediately.

“Mr. Chips, but how – ?”

“He must have been out when the fire started. I found him a few days after the funeral,” Halloran said. “He’s pretty old for a dog, got some miles on him.”

“So do I,” Mike said, wrapping his arms around Mr. Chips’ neck and burying his face there to hide his tears.

“Hello, Dick!”

When Mike had composed himself he looked up to find a woman and a boy about Georgie’s age standing on the front porch.

Halloran was already walking over to them, and Mike got up to go meet Dick’s friends. Mr. Chips followed him closely as if afraid he might lose Mike again.

“Wendy,” Dick said, hugging the woman. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course. Always happy to help,” Wendy said.

“Mike, this is my friend Wendy Torrance and her son Danny. They’re usually the ones who dog sit when I come up to Derry.” Halloran said.

“Nice to meet you,” Mike said, shaking first Wendy then Danny’s hand.

“Shall we show you around?” Wendy asked.

“That would be lovely,” Dick agreed.

Wendy led them into the little house and began to give them a tour.

The little house was full of sunshine and smelled of lemony all-purpose cleaner. Everything in the house suggested an assortment of taste. It gave the house a comfortable fullness and sense of being lived in. The dishes in the kitchen were all mismatched, as was the furniture in the living room. But this crowded feeling held the antithesis of every home Robert had ever dragged Mike and the others too. This house was cleaner too, despite the overflowing pillows and blankets which spilled over the furniture.

Mike didn’t mind this temporary home in the slightest. He couldn’t wait to show it off to the others.

–

Across town the rest of the Losers were sitting in Ben’s cramped room talking softly so as not to wake Arlene who had finally passed out from her shift in the next room.

As soon as they were settled Beverly couldn’t help but ask, “how are they?”

All eyes were turned on Richie, and although he usually loved the limelight he didn’t bother to string out the news. “They were rattled last night, obviously. Georgie hasn’t said a word to any of us and Eddie… all those medications Robert had him on were placebos. Just a means to control him.”

Richie didn’t notice how much his hands were shaking until Stan grabbed in a comforting gesture. He smiled at his best friend.

“How did Eddie take the news?” Stan asked.

Richie let out a mirthless laugh, “Don’t know. He won’t really talk about it to me. I think he’s pushing it all down. I only found out cause my mom told me.”

“Poor Eddie,” Beverly said.

“And Bill?” Stan asked.

“Still in the hospital. Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me go with them today,” Richie said.

“No news?” Ben asked.

Richie shook his head.

“I wish the adults would tell us what’s going on,” Beverly said.

“Your mom didn’t say anything?” Richie asked Ben.

He shook his head. “She had to work a double yesterday. And Aunt Jean isn’t too happy with her right now, so when she came home she went immediately to her room.”

Beverly rolled her eyes. “I wonder why. I thought your Aunt was going to have a cow when I showed up here last night.”

Ben blushed. “She’s a bit old fashioned about these sorts of things.”

“Where did you sleep Beverly?”

“The couch. Woke up to Ben’s cousin watching me sleep.”

“Jeez I apologized about that –”

“Not your fault babe,” Beverly said, kissing Ben’s cheek.

“Well hopefully you can get settled somewhere more permanently soon,” Stan said.

“Yeah, but I don’t think locating my mom is a high priority on anyone’s list,” Beverly said.

“You don’t know that.”

“Have you guys heard anything about the police investigation?” Ben asked.

The other Losers shook their heads. So far none of their parents had talked about what was going on down at police station. On top of that the Derry News had remained silent about the arrests, which was no real surprise to Beverly or Ben. However, with a little digging the Losers were able to discover news outlets from all across the state had articles about the arrests which had been made last night, as well as a few papers from major cities on the East Coast which were reporting on the FBI’s involvement. It would seem Derry’s dirty little secret would not be hushed up.

The next hour was spent in quiet research as the four teenagers pulled up article after article surmising the events of the previous night and what the District Attorney had planned. However, most of the articles pulled from the same interview, and most of the facts had been obscured by the DA for the time being.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Ben asked, after reading one article which surmised that Derry’s legal system probably had no prior experience in a case this large and would therefore be slowed down as it chewed its way through red tape and the cogs that were the justice system. Not a hopeful outlook to say the least.

“They’ll fine the attendees and charge the organizers,” Stan said not looking up from the article he was reading.

“I bet some of them are cutting deals for reduced sentences,” Richie cut in excitedly having seen too may crime procedurals for his own good.

“Richie,” Stan said in a disapproving tone.

“What? You know a man like Sheriff Bowers wouldn’t last a week in Shawshank or anywhere else for that matter. It’s all about self preservation, baby.”

“I know, but I don’t like the idea of any of them getting off after what they’ve done.”

Richie had the good sense to look a bit ashamed at his previous enthusiasm.

Ben’s bedroom door opened, and Aunt Jean looked in distastefully. She looked quite a bit like her sister, the only difference was the perpetual scowl on her face. She lacked all of Arlene’s warmth and maternal instinct, and the only thing speaking to her merit was the fact that she had taken Arlene and Ben in at all.

“Sorry, Aunt Jean, were we being too loud?” Ben asked.

She nodded. “Lord knows I love my sister, but I can’t wait for you to be out from under foot. Especially once there are three of you.”

“What?” Ben asked.

From the hallway they could hear Arlene’s scandalized, “Jean!”

Jean turned over her shoulder. “I thought you would have told the boy about the house already –”

The Losers looked at one another uneasily, and Arlene replaced her sister at the door. “Ben can I speak with you in the kitchen?”

Ben looked at his friends once more before following his mom down the hall.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“Remember when I talked about moving?”

Ben nodded.

“Well I’ve had some money saved up for awhile now, and Jean doesn’t really want us under foot anymore and when I told her about Eddie –”

“What about Eddie?”

Arlene sat down in a huff. “I’m sorry this is all backwards.”

Ben remained silent as his mother collected herself. She took a couple deep breaths and then started over. “Benny, I’ve been in discussion with Detective Nell and some family lawyers in Lewiston because I would like to adopt Eddie once this is all through. It’s been something I’ve been thinking about for a while now, but I can’t give him a good home here. Not in Jean’s house. So I was looking in the papers for a place, and I found one. Not in Portland, but in Castle Rock which is only fifteen minutes from here. It means you’ll have to get up earlier if you still want to attend Derry High, but it is possible. I wanted to tell you about this before everything happened, but it all started to happen so quickly and then I was called in to work and I haven’t talked to Eddie about it yet and –”

Ben hugged his mom and she stopped talking for a minute. She squeezed him tightly before pulling away and looking him in the eye, “and you’re okay with this? Me adopting Eddie?”

Ben smiled. “I think it’s a fantastic idea.”

Arlene smiled. “Oh thank god. I wanted to bring him here after last night, but Beverly needed somewhere to stay too and it just didn’t feel right separating him from Georgie and Bill yet.”

“Am I allowed to tell the others?” Ben asked.

Arlene seemed about to shake her head when she stopped figuring that they would be curious after all Jean had said earlier. “I guess that’s alright, but please don’t mention it to Eddie yet until I can talk to him. Alright?”

“Of course, mom.” Ben said, hugging her once more before running back to his room.

The other Losers looked at him expectantly. 

“Hey Rich, how do you feel about driving to Castle Rock?” Ben really couldn’t help himself. He knew he shouldn’t bring it up, but the look on Richie’s face was so worth it.

“Wha –?”

“Never mind. I’ve got some news to share.”

True to his word, Ben didn’t say anything about his mom adopting Eddie. But he did tell them about his mom’s plan to move, and while the Losers were disappointed that he would no longer be within radio distance, they were excited for him to finally have a house of his own. It would seem that everyone was finding their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter until the new year as I will be taking a short break for the holidays. I hope you're loving this story as much as I am. It feels so good to write happy things for once, although there are still plenty of loose ends to tie up surrounding the trials and Mike's past, but you'll just have to wait.  
> Thank you for all the support on the last chapter, it blew me away. You guys are amazing.  
> Please let me know what you thought about this chapter. Any further predictions? I'd love to hear them.  
> YRS.  
> TWoW  
> PS - be sure to be on the look out for my holiday fic starting 12/20. I'm so excited to share it with y'all. Subscribe for notifications or follow me on tumblr.


	30. Chapter 30

Robert Gray sat in interrogation room B at the Bangor Precinct. It was a shoe box of a room, and with its gray walls and dingy overhead lighting, it seriously lacked imagination. He couldn’t say how long he had been in here, within this room all sense of time ceased to exist. It had been designed this way. He had been placed here to sweat it out, and he was sure he was being observed through the mirror across from him. He smiled grimly at it, his eyes tracing the contours of the room until they landed on a small camera. It was meant to be hidden, but he wouldn’t allow them any illusions of who was in control. He had been placed here to sweat it out sure, but Robert wasn’t worried. After all, he had done nothing wrong.

The door opened and two officers stepped in.

Robert didn’t acknowledge them until they were directly across from him. He flicked his eyes between the two of them taking in their appearance. The taller of the two wore a Maine State Police uniform, but despite his rank he seemed to defer to the other man in a wrinkled suit. This was the man who had arrested him. Robert’s eyes narrowed slightly. He’d have to be careful around this man.

“Mr. Gray, my name is Detective Nell from the FBI and this is Chief Sullivan of the Maine State Police.”

Robert remained unimpressed. “Quite a bit out of your jurisdiction, coming all the way up here just for me.”

“Hardly. We have you on kidnapping charges which cross state lines, that puts you exactly in my jurisdiction.”

“I’ve never kidnapped anyone.”

The Statie glanced to Nell, and Robert had to suppress a smile. Already there was unease forming, a wedge which Robert planned to take full advantage of.

“Entering your wards into illegal fights is no walk in the park.” The Statie said.

“Please, even if I had done such a thing, in the state of Maine that is only a class C crime.”

“Child endangerment is hardly ‘only a Class C crime.’” The Statie looked ready for a fight, but Robert wasn’t interested.

“Have you called my lawyer yet?”

This time it was Nell who glanced at the other officer. It was time for them to go, and they knew it.

Robert watched them leave. Under his breath he muttered, “run rabbit, run.”

The door closed with a click. 

Robert leaned back in his chair and turned to the mirror, a smile curving across his lips. They had nothing on him.

–

Out in the hall Detective Nell scrubbed his hand over his eyes. “He thinks he knows everything. Did you see the way he watched us? Cocky bastard.”

Sullivan nodded.

The door from the observation room opened and they were joined by the District Attorney, Sadie Epping, and the Bangor Chief of Police, Gary Jones, who had requested to be called Jonesy within five minutes of their meeting.

Jonesy was a cheerful guy, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at him tonight. The late hours had not been kind to the chief of police, they wore heavily in the droop of his shoulder and the bags under his eyes. His hands shook slightly from too much caffeine, but he did a good job of hiding it.

“How much longer can we delay calling his lawyer?” Jonesy asked.

“Not much longer,” Chief Sullivan said.

“Shit. What more can we do?”

“We need more on the kidnapping, he’s not as innocent as he acts,” Sadie Epping said.

“What do you recommend we do? We’ve traced the paperwork and it’s good. His lawyer could argue that Gray never knew about Hanlon’s history in Derry, and he might get away with it,” said Chief Sullivan.

“I think we offer Sheriff Bowers a deal.” Sadie said, lifting her chin to look the other men in the eye.

“Your office is okay with that?” Jonesy asked.

“Look if we can get him to turn on Robert, then we might be able to find something. We can’t afford a mistrial. If we lose him on this we’ll never get a shot like this again. Besides, Bowers is desperate. He’s been trying to offer a deal since he got here. He knows he won’t last a day behind bars.”

“What do you think?” Chief Sullivan asked, glancing to Nell.

“We can’t let Gray get away. Sadie, call your office and see what deal a judge will be willing to offer Bowers. And no one call Mr. Gray’s lawyer yet, he can wait just a bit longer.”

Aloysius Nell watched Sadie take off, leaving just Jonesy, Sullivan, and him alone.

“Do you think this is going to work?” Jonesy asked.

“It had better.”

“Your men never found anything in that house?”

“He was smart. There was nothing there. The drugs are inconsequential, a lawyer could argue that Gray didn’t know that they were illegal and just thought they were supplements. Although that doesn’t begin to explain his treatment of Mr. Kaspbrak.”

Sullivan shook his head. “What he did to those children was terrible.”

“If I had it my way, he’d never get his lawyer. We’d just lock him up and throw away the key.” Jonesy said.

Nell listened to their conversation with interest. An idea began to tug at the back of his mind, but he was too tired to explore its significance. It would have to wait until he had a proper night’s rest.

He checked his watch. It had only been four hours since he had left his team at 29 Neibolt Street, and yet that felt like a lifetime ago. His universe had shrunk to the walls of this precinct, and as hopeless as it made him feel he reminded himself of the kids for which he was fighting. He knew they wouldn’t be defeated by the long odds, in fact they would probably face them head on and enjoy it. But that youthful energy was well in his past, and these days he needed all the help he could get.

“Anyone need some coffee?”

Jonesy looked eager to agree before he stopped in his tracks. “Better not.”

“I’m alright,” Sullivan said.

Nell nodded and made his way off to the break room. The idea from before continued to tug and form in his subconscious.

–

“Nell.”

Aloysius looked up from his temporary desk, forcing his eyes to focus on Chief Sullivan. A cup of forgotten coffee had gone cold at the corner, records and papers were spread across the remaining surface area. “Hm?”

“Sadie said negotiations are going more slowly than expected. It appears the judge does not like being woken up at 4 am, and doesn’t want to offer Bowers anything.” Catching Nell’s frown, Sullivan hurried on, “she said to tell you it may take a while longer and you should rest while you can. Jonesy offered the couch in his office for you to crash on, although it might be better for you to just go back to the hotel.”

Nell yawned before he could begin making his arguments.

“You’re no good to anyone when you can barely think.” Sullivan added.

“Alright, alright. I get your point, but I’m staying here.”

Sullivan knew better than to argue. He ushered Nell to Jonesy’s office where a plush leather couch sat in the corner. 

Nell lay down and passed out instantly.

–

He woke four hours later.

The bullpen was filled with a new shift of officers, bright eyed and busy tailed as his commanding officer had once called them. He remembered when those words had applied to him, but those days were well in his past. There was an ache between his neck and shoulder, the previous day’s travel and lack of proper rest were catching up to him. He was getting old.

“Is Mrs. Epping here?” He asked the first officer he ran across.

“Jonesy told me that she went back to Derry to collect some paperwork from her office and would be back in an hour or so.”

Nell rubbed his eyes. He wondered if she had slept at all. “And are Jonesy and Sullivan in?”

“Conference room, they didn’t want to disturb you, sir.”

“Thank you, boyo, the sir is hardly necessary.”

Nell headed to the conference room and found Jonesy and Sullivan there.

“Good morning,” Sullivan said.

The older man looked surprisingly alert.

“Morning. Did you get some rest?”

Sullivan looked like a chagrined school boy. “After you passed out, I went to the hotel. Figured there was nothing to do til morning.”

“Good,” Nell said.

“We’re just waiting for Sadie to return. She was a bit cryptic on the phone, but she said she had finally gotten through to the judge. She’ll be back in an hour,” Jonesy said.

Nell nodded. “I’m going to go freshen up, but if she’s back before I return call me.”

“Certainly.”

Nell stumbled out of the precinct into the morning light. The world looked different under the sun, the darkness and evil he had born witness to didn’t have a hold on him. He caught a cab to the hotel Jonesy had arranged for them to stay in for the next few days.

There he caught a cold shower, and had time to change. In clean clothes and after a hearty breakfast he felt like a new man.

On his way back to the station he received a call.

“Nell,” he said in lieu of greeting.

“Aloysius, it’s Nancy.”

“Nancy! Hello, it’s been quite the circus around here –”

Nancy laughed. “I’ve read about it in the papers this morning. You’ll get quite the accolades when you come back to DC.”

“Never mind that, Nance. You know that’s not why I do it. I’m actually on my way in to meet with the DA, can I call you back?”

“You told me to call as soon as I found her.”

“What?”

“I know your mind must be a million places right now, but my contact in Scotland Yard got back to me yesterday. Elfrida Marsh, nee Phillips has been living in London with her sister for the past ten years. I contacted her and told her everything that’s happened and she is getting on the next flight to Bangor.”

Aloysius mind went blank for a moment.

“You still there?”

“Yes. Yes. When’s her flight scheduled to arrive.”

“Monday, she said she couldn’t get anything sooner.”

“That’s fine, that’s fine. Give me her contact information and I’ll reach out to her. I can arrange to meet her –”

“Aloysius, you’re doing too much –”

“Come on, Nance. You know me.”

“I know that’s why I won’t let you take more on your plate. Your job is to put away that Mr. Gray for life. Let me handle Ms. Phillips arrival.”

“I owe you, Nance.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when you get your promotion.”

“Hardee har har.”

“I’ll be in touch once she sends me her finalized plans.”

“Thanks, Nancy. I mean it. I’ve just arrived at the station, I better go.”

“Go, go. I’ll be in touch.”

Nell hung up the phone, taking the stairs to the precinct’s door two at a time.

He made his way to the conference room and found Jonesy, Chief Sullivan, and Sadie already there. The former was passing Sadie a new cup of coffee as she opened her folio. She was wearing a fresh set of clothes, but the dark circles under her eyes suggested that she had not in fact been able to get any sleep.

“Aloysius, glad you’re back,” Sadie said barely looking at him as she continued to sort through her papers. “Alright boys, I talked to Judge Winthrop, and my office has created the initial papers for arraignment hearings for those in attendance of the fights. Pretty standard, they’ll probably have a hefty fine, but it’s unlikely they’ll receive jail time. My office is more interested in prosecuting Oscar Bowers, Richard Macklin, and Veronica Hockstetter to the full extent of the law. However, we think they might have some useful information on Robert Gray so we’re willing to offer some plea bargains, but first we need to know what Bowers knows. He’s the key, and depending on what he says we’ll go from there.”

“Great work, Sadie,” Chief Sullivan said.

“Has Mr. Gray’s lawyer been called?”

“Not yet.”

“Do that. I don’t want any question of due diligence to come up during this case,” Sadie said.

Jonesy nodded and went off to give orders to make the call, when he came back Sadie added, “I think it’s time we hear what Mr. Bowers has to offer.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jonesy hurried off to give orders for Bowers to be brought from his holding cell as well as for the Gray’s lawyer to be called. He and Chief Sullivan would be leading the questioning, so Nell and Sadie went to the observation room.

After a few moments, the Sheriff of Derry was led into the room. Stripped of any power he had had he looked like a different man. His hair hung like a greasy curtain around his head, his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. A paper man. Sadie had been right. He would never last behind bars.

Once he was settled in his seat and introductions were made, Chief Sullivan asked, “What can you tell me about the abduction of Michael Hanlon from his parents farm?”

“I want a deal.”

“The DA’s office is willing to bargain, but it depends on what you have to offer. Despite what you think, we’re not really that interested in you. We want Robert Gray.”

At Sullivan’s words, Bowers began to perk up. A crazed light was in his eyes. “Gray?”

“Yes.”

“I can tell you all about him. I’ll tell you everything. But I don’t want to go Shawshank. I want to go to one of those low security –”

“Depends on how good your information is,” Jonesy interrupted.

Bowers eyed him fearfully.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you what happened. All of it. But no Shawshank.”

Jonesy looked to Sullivan who nodded.

“Alright, no Shawshank. Now tell us what happened to Michael Hanlon’s family.” 

–

After Bowers’ confession, Veronica Hockstetter was questioned and a warrant was placed for the arrest of Helena Kersch. Things began to move very quickly, as the gears of the justice system turned, grinding through the red tape. The arraignment hearings were scheduled to begin Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back, babies! I hope this new year is being kind to everyone. Thank you for your patience, the break was much needed.  
> This story is beginning to wind down, and I kinda can't believe how far it's come. I want to thank you all for you constant encouragement and love, I don't think I'd have made it this far without you all. I hope you remember how much power you have.  
> Leave a comment below telling me what you thought! Any predictions? I'd love to hear them.  
> Finally, I'll be back to my weekly Friday updates. So I'll see you soon.  
> xoxo  
> Weaver


	31. Chapter 31

Stan was at the hospital as soon as their visiting hours had started. He had wanted to come sooner, but his parents had convinced him to give Bill a few days to recover after all he had undergone. Despite their protests this morning, Stan had made up his mind that he had to see Bill today. 

In anticipation of seeing Bill his heart was already beating ridiculously fast. He wished that he could convince himself to calm down, but his heart was in no mood to listen to logic today and it continued its tap dance against his ribs.

As he was signing in at the front desk, he was greeted with some familiar faces. Richie and Georgie were just coming in through the main entrance. Stan waited until they were closer before greeting them.

“Morning, Richie. What are you doing here?”

“King George wanted to come see Bill, and Mom and Dad had to take Eddie over to Ben’s.”

“I thought Ben said they were going to look at the new house today?”

Richie shrugged, Ben might have said something to that effect but Richie didn’t remember. He trusted Stan though, and if Stan said Ben was going out to Castle Rock than it was likely true.

Trailing a little ways behind him came Georgie. Stan smiled at the younger boy, “hey, Georgie.”

Georgie looked up at Stan with an ingrained fear which broke Stan’s heart, but upon sensing his warmth Georgie’s posture eased slightly. He came to the front desk and began to fill out the visitors’ log, careful not to make eye contact with the nurse.

Richie watched the interaction curiously. Over the past few days he had become surprising protective towards the younger boy, and watched him for signs that he might speak. Still no luck, but it had only been a couple days since he had been released from his attic. He had heard his parents discussing getting Georgie into therapy, but it was obvious they didn’t wan to rush anything. Still it would be nice if the kid decided to speak on his own. Not that Richie could blame him for being silent, he just wanted to know that Georgie was alright in there.

Stan and Richie waited for Georgie to finish before heading to the elevators.

“So how’s your mom holding up?” Richie asked.

“What?”

“My mom is constantly on the phone with her, so I thought you might know what they’re talking about.”

“For a second I thought you were setting up a poorly timed your-mom joke.”

“Well we did have a rather wild evening last night.”

Georgie snorted.

The older boys looked down at him with surprise.

“I won’t beep you for that one, but you’re on a short leash,” Stan said once he moved past his surprise. 

“Kinky!”

“Beep beep, Rich. And Mom is Mom. She’s fretting that she isn’t doing enough. She wanted to cook a dinner for Arlene, but then she started worrying about food allergies and dietary restrictions. And she wasn’t sure if she should make some for Jean and her son as well or just for Arlene, Ben, and Bev. So that idea is on hold for now. She just wants to be useful.”

“Your mom’s a good one, Stan.”

Stan sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

“You get that from her.”

“Get what?”

“The need to constantly mother hen.”

“Ha ha, Rich. Very funny.”

Richie shrugged. It was true. Stan was the emotional center of their group, always had been. While Beverly and Richie were more likely to come up with the ideas, it was to Stan they turned for reassurance and validation that it was the right thing. He was their mother, constantly bandaging up bruises and cuts, soothing away fears and worries, and generally looking out for them. And there was no one better he could have learned those skills from than Andrea.

The elevator doors opened, and Georgie led the way to Bill’s room, not without constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure that Stan and Richie remained close. He was the first one in Bill’s room, climbing up onto the bed immediately.

From the hall, Richie and Stan heard Bill’s warm greeting.

“Georgie! W-w-what are you doing here?”

“Hiya Big Bill,” Richie said, strolling in.

“Glad to see my b-brother wasn’t unaccompanied to the hospital,” Bill said with a dry laugh.

“I’m hurt, Bill.”

Only Stan had the sense to knock on the door frame before entering. His heartbeat was erratic now, and his palms were sweaty. He slipped his hands into his pockets as subtly as he could. Luckily his voice didn’t betray his nerves, and he was able to maintain a steady tone. “Hi, Bill.”

“Stan.”

“How are you? Sorry that’s a stupid question.”

Bill smiled, staring at Stan. “B-better. It’s g-good to see you, Stan.”

The moment was only broken by Georgie lightly punching Bill’s arm while rolling his eyes. 

Bill and Richie laughed while Stan blushed and had to look away to gather his thoughts.

“So how are you doing, really?” Richie asked.

“My knuckles ache like hell, they have got me on some minor pain killers which help, but I overheard Doctor Cho talking about possibly getting me in for surgery.”

“Surgery?” This time Stan couldn’t hide the panic in his tone.

Bill nodded. “I couldn’t figure out what for, but the only thing coming to mind is my ear. But I don’t understand it.”

“Don’t understand what?”

“Who would pay for it. It’s not a necessary expense –”

“Oh come on, Big Bill,” Richie cut in.

Everyone turned to look at him.

“My parents want to help. They care about you and your brother.”

“W-what? But w-why?” Bill’s face was flushed, and the warring emotions which played across his face acted as a sobering reminder that Bill Denbrough had not been loved in a very long time.

“You can’t always explain why people do what they do, but I’d argue a good deal of it stems from love.” Richie said, looking around the room. “It’s illogical as all hell, but like the Beatles said: love makes the rockin’ world go round.”

“Richie, that’s Queen. The Beatles said all you need is love.” Stan said.

Richie smiled. “Thanks, Stanabelle. I can always rely on you. But my point still stands. Love is a driving factor for a lot of human behavior. Love of self, love for others, love for justice? Whatever the reason, my parents are going to help you both land on your feet. It’s just the sort of people they are.”

“Oh.” 

Bill looked away so that he might discreetly wipe the tears which were caught in his lashes. Richie and Stan had the good sense to pretend not to notice.

“Yeah, well that’s as best I can figure. Now let’s talk about something important midterms are coming up and I have no clue what I’m writing for Epping.”

“Seriously?” Stan asked.

“Look Stan, we can’t all be like you and have our essay preplanned the first week of school.”

“I don’t –”

“Don’t be modest. You always write your essays weeks ahead of time. I bet it’s done now, sitting on your computer waiting to be printed and turned in.”

Georgie watched the ensuing conversation with a rapid interest that had Bill laughing. “If I didn’t know how much you and Eddie like each other I’d be sure you’re t-trying to steal my m-man, Tozier.”

“Your man?” Stan’s ears flushed.

“Hey, Denbrough, he was mine first. And I expect you to ask for my blessing before things proceed too far.”

Bill choked.

“Oh my god.” Stan said.

Georgie patted his hand clumsily from where he sat on Bill’s bed.

“Thanks, Georgie. Clearly you’re the only gentleman in the room.”

Georgie cracked a hint of a smile.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Richie said.

“M-me too.”

“You both are heathens.”

“On this earth there are worse things to be,” Richie said.

Bill nodded solemnly. “H-have you heard anything more from the p-police? They came to question me the other d-day, but I d-don’t… I can’t remember anything.”

Stan shook his head.

“Dad said that he thinks the arraignment hearings would begin tomorrow,” Richie said. 

Georgie tugged on Bill’s sleeve, cocking his head. It was obvious that he didn’t know what arraignment meant.

“I d-don’t know either, Georgie. What’s that?” Bill asked.

“An arraignment hearing is where they read the charges to the defendants and when the court sets bail,” Stan said.

“What are the chances that they’ll let him g-go?”

Stan looked to Richie, before answering Bill. “We don’t think it’s likely. Since he has spent so much of his time on the road we think that might view him as a flight risk. They wouldn’t want to risk letting him go, and even if they do we think bail will be set pretty high. I don’t know what his assets are like, but they won’t make it easy on him.”

Bill nodded. “And the others?”

“Who?”

“The other fighters.”

“We haven’t heard anything,” Richie said looking to Stan. “The papers are mostly covering the adults’ charges right now, but we think that they’ll probably try and evaluate the mental states of the others and put them into the system.”

“They should go away for what they did to you.”

“Bill –” Stan started.

“Once some of this b-blows over I’m going to tell Detective Nell what they d-did to you. They c-can’t be allowed to g-go.”

Stan leaned in and pressed a quick kiss on Bill’s cheek. The place bloomed scarlet as Bill blushed.

“Stan the Man’s got moves!”

“Beep beep.”

But Stan didn’t mind, not really, not with the way Bill’s eyes were watching him. He thought that maybe, just maybe they would be alright. Before he could move back to his seat, Bill took his hand in his own, and pulled him onto the bed.

Stan took Bill’s bandaged hand gently in his own, careful not to injure him further, and laid it in his lap. He smiled at Bill, who was gazing at him with such adoration that he didn’t even notice Richie sneaking a photo of them.

Georgie watched the two of them without shame or embarrassment, he thought that Bill looked like their dad had once when he was watching their mom play the piano. It was a nice memory, but he thought this one was better. He curled into Bill’s lap allowing the older boys’ conversation to lap around him like sunlit waves on the shore. Eventually he fell asleep.

–

Eddie sat across from Arlene in Aunt Jean’s cramped living room. The Toziers were in the kitchen chatting with Ben and Beverly, but had promised to come should he need them. Everything about this arrangement was strange, and Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it. His best guess was that she had more bad news about the fake prescriptions. Maybe they weren’t as harmless as Arlene had initially thought. Maybe they had given him cancer. What if he had cancer?

Eddie could feel his breathing go wrong, and he struggled to remain calm. He felt himself reaching for his inhaler, but of course he no longer carried it. His fingers twitched. He needed something to focus on, something tangible.

He watched as Arlene rubbed the corner of her thumbnail with the pad of her index. The place looked cracked and sore as if she had been abusing it for a long time. There was hardly any nail beyond the cuticle. Slowly he was able to get his breathing under control. With a definitive gesture she set her hands in her lap and looked Eddie in the eye.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to talk about with you,” Arlene said.

“Is it the pills again? I’ve been getting better at not reaching for them,” Eddie lied. He didn’t want to be in trouble, and he didn’t want this woman to know how much he still relied on needing his prescriptions to feel better. He was weak, he knew that, but he didn’t want her thinking that.

“No, Eddie. It isn’t the pills.”

“Oh.” He frowned, unsure what it might be about then.

“Have you thought about where you would like to end up after all this is done?”

Eddie shrugged as he tried to remain calm, but already his heart was beginning to pound.

“Ideally, where would you want to live?” Arlene said, reframing the question.

“I don’t know.”

“You must have some idea.”

Eddie shook his head.

“Alright. Would you want to stay close to Derry? Or go some place else?”

Already Eddie was shaking his head. “I don’t want to be sent away. The others all have someone. Mike has Mr. Halloran, and Georgie and Bill have one another. I can’t be sent away. I don’t want to end up with someone like –”

He went to reach for his inhaler, but then remembered that he no longer carried it. His hand dropped useless into his lap as he continued to struggle for air.

“I need you to breathe through this, Eddie. C’mon, deep breaths. Engage your diaphragm, there you go.”

When he felt like he could speak again he said, “please. I don’t want to be put in the system.”

“I understand. I have a bit of a proposition for you. I know it’s soon, and I want you to think it over, but I would like to adopt you.”

“What?”

“I’ve talked it over with both Detective Nell and some family lawyers. I even found a house in Castle Rock that would be big enough for the three of us. It’s not quite Derry, but I know Ben has been saving up for a car and –”

“Yes.”

“You don’t need to answer right away. I don’t want to rush you –”

Eddie blushed. “I trust you. You were the only one to tell me the truth, and that… it means a lot to me. No one has ever told me the truth, and there were so many doctors and physicians who could have. But you did. And I know that you’re good because you raised Ben, and he’s probably the kindest most selfless person I know and he must have gotten that from somewhere. I want to stay here with my friends. I don’t want to be sent away.”

“Yeah?” Arlene had tears in her eyes.

Eddie nodded.

“Can I give you a hug?”

Eddie nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

Arlene smiled, tears in her eyes, and wrapped him up in a hug.

It wasn’t like hugging his friends. For one he couldn’t get his arms all the way around her waist. She was softer, less lean muscle and bony joints, more feminine. There was a cleanness to her scent which he supposed came with the job. It was immediately calming. He could feel her body wracked with sobs under his arms, and he knew it was from happiness. He had made someone happy. Eddie had never had that effect on someone before, and knowing that he had such power sent a tingling warmth through him.

And it was only here, wrapped in her arms that Eddie knew he had spoken the truth. No adult had ever earned his trust so quickly, and while part of his brain was warning him that it was a mistake to trust so easily, he knew deep down that Arlene would never purposefully do anything to harm him. She wasn’t like Robert or like his deceased mother. He knew that now.

Arlene pulled away and looked at him with pure love in her eyes. In short she was everything a mother ought to be.

Eddie leaned in for another hug, so that he could hide his tears.

She let out a soft laugh which rolled through her body like liquid molasses.

“Good news, I hope?”

Eddie pulled away to see that the Toziers had snuck in. Wentworth had a look of chagrin on his face, as if he was embarrassed to be interrupting, but Maggie looked entirely like Richie; mischief in the tilt of her brow and quirk of her lips. There was another emotion too, which Eddie could not identify, but it shone brightly in her eyes. 

Behind them stood Ben and Beverly.

“He said yes,” Arlene said.

Ben let out a whoop, before rushing over to them. He wrapped his arms around both of them in a bone crushing hug.

“I’ve always wanted a brother.”

Eddie smiled, shoving Ben’s shoulder for being a sap. But secretly he liked it.

“I want to show you boys the house. I won’t put an offer in until I know it’s the right place for us,” Arlene said.

“Sounds good, mom.” Ben said.

“The Realtor left me the keys so we can go take a look. How does that sound? Eddie?”

He nodded still unable to bring himself to speak.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Maggie said.

“I’d love for you to come,” Arlene said quickly.

Maggie raised a brow.

“I know Castle Rock is a bit of a drive, and if you have other plans I understand. But I’d love your eye, not that I can afford your prices –”

“I’d love to offer a free consultation,” Maggie said with a wink. “What do you think, honey?”

“Sounds great.” Wentworth said.

“Beverly?” Arlene asked. “Would you like to come too?”

Beverly smiled. “Sounds great, Arlene.”

“It’s a roadtrip then. I just need to grab my purse.”

Eddie watched in wonder. Unnoticed by him, Beverly came to join him. She pinched him sharply on the arm.

“Hey!”

“Just thought you’d want proof that this isn’t a dream.”

“That was a very Richie thing of you to do,” Ben said, trying to hide his laughter.

Eddie tried to glare at him, but he was doing a poor job of it. He just couldn’t stop smiling.

“Well since lover boy couldn’t be here himself, someone had to.” Beverly shrugged.

“Where is he by the way?” Ben asked.

“Georgie wanted to see Bill,” Eddie said.

“Everyone ready?” Arlene asked, leaning her head back into the living room.

“Let’s go,” Ben said.

–

In a quiet wooded part of Derry Cemetery, Mike Hanlon came face to face with his parents’ grave site. He had asked Dick to bring him here, and the man stood a few feet away to give Mike some time alone. He thought he had been ready to face them, but it was different seeing their names carved in stone along with his. It was more real than he had been expecting it to be. He couldn’t help but wonder who was buried there in his place. Did his parents miss him? Did they wonder why their son had never come back to them? Mike’s heart broke at the thought of it.

He set down the flowers he had brought, replacing the ones Halloran had left a few weeks ago, before tracing their names with his fingers. A deep sense of loss settled over him. They were gone. There was no bringing them back, and this was as close to touching them as he could ever get. He did nothing to stop the tears

“Hey Mom, Dad.” His voice shook. “It’s been awhile, huh? I bet you hardly recognize me. But I came back. For the longest time I was told you had abandoned me, and I began to believe it so much that I lost the truth. I didn’t trust my own memories. And maybe it was easier to just try and forget. But that couldn’t stop me from remembering you in my dreams. I know now you never left me.

I met some pretty wonderful people. And they found out the truth of who I was. I owe them everything. They’re my best friends, and someday I’ll bring them here to meet you. You’ll like them. I know it. They led me to your friend Dick Halloran. He’s begun to tell me about you. And while some part of me wishes I had died in that fire with you and escaped the pain I was put through, I know that isn’t what you would want for me.”

Mike paused shocked at what he had just admitted. He hadn’t even realized there was a part of him which had longed for that. His thoughts began to spiral as he wondered what he might have done if he had never learned the truth, and if things with Robert had gotten worse. How far would he have been willing to go to escape?

The darkness of the truth frightened him.

He dug his fingers into the wet earth as an attempt to ground himself in the here and now. The soil was cool and soothing. Robert was no longer in charge of his life. He had escaped without such desperate measures, and while those instincts needed to be examined it was not something which should be done here and now. He began to speak again, his voice breaking.

“I have an idea about the farm. I want to bring it back, you know. It’s your legacy, and I think you would really like my idea. At least I hope so. I love you both so much, and I’m sorry. Sorry for believing that you could ever leave me, and for wishing that I had… but I’m not going to give up. I’m going to work, and I’m going to make you proud. Promise.”

Mike stood, his knees were wet from the grass, but he didn’t notice. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand before going to where Halloran stood. “Let’s go see my farm.”

Dick didn’t say anything further, but led them to where his car was parked.

Although the winding drive was familiar and set Mike off he reminded himself that the destination was different and that in the daylight with Halloran nothing could hurt him. But that didn’t seem to stop the sickness which poisoned his gut making him feel ill. He did his best to focus on his breathing, and distract himself from the familiar surroundings.

Dick looked over at Mike while he drove. All the blood had seemed to leave him. The boy was pale, his hands were clenched in his lap. He was sure this area must hold unpleasant memories for Mike, but as much as he had wanted to hold off on returning here Mike was eager to look at what work would need to be done. He had yet to tell Dick all his thoughts for the farm, but there was still time for that. They were still learning one another’s ways, and Dick saw no need to rush that.

They turned off the main road onto the long driveway which led to the old Hanlon Farm. It wove through barren trees up the hill to where the house and barn had once sat. Gold leaves covered the drive like coins spilling from a purse. Below them the property opened up to them. Despite being late in the season, last night’s rain made the whole valley seem lush and alive.

Dick parked the car, and the two of them got out.

“What did they grow here?” Mike asked looking to the barren fields.

“Grew a lot of oats and hay which they sold to cattle farms. Some potatoes and whatever else your mother could convince her kitchen garden to yield, but mostly there were sheep. Lotta good pasture down there for livestock. Some chickens of course, you loved chasing them around as soon as you learned to walk. This place had a bit of everything.” Halloran’s voice was thick with emotion and nostalgia.

“Sounds wonderful.” Mike said, and for just a moment he believed he was seeing it as Dick remembered it. But the moment was gone before he could grasp it.

“It was.”

“I want to bring it back.”

“A farm is more work than the two of us can manage,” Dick said.

“I know, that’s why I want to open it up to anyone in need of a place to stay. A sort of halfway house, a safe place for kids like me. They don’t need to pay rent, just help out with the farming.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Do you think we could make it possible?”

Dick rubbed his chin slowly as he began to calculate in his head. He turned away from the fields to go back to the remains of the house. He began walking the perimeter, all the while talking softly to himself.

“It’ll be a lot of hard work. For starters we’ll need to reconstruct the house. The barn too if you want to bring back the livestock… with the money in trust, plus some of my savings – yes – then there’s the labor costs of – hmm… and of course we can’t forget – no no no – think…”

“Dick?”

Dick turned. “How badly do you want this?”

“I want it.”

Dick nodded. “Well then, we’ll just have to make it work. First thing is finding a contractor to build the house. Luckily the foundation is still here. I’m thinking we’ll want three stories besides the basement to accommodate our guests? 

It’ll take a few years to get it back to where your parents had it, but if we start small then I think we can make a reasonably profitable business.”

Mike nodded. Here he felt closer to his parents than he had in the cemetery. This had been their dream, and it was his now. While they lived in that dream, he could now touch them through it. He knew this was the right thing.

“We should be getting back soon. I know for a fact that Wendy will have made a big lunch and I’d hate to miss it.”

Mike took one last look at the property before returning to Halloran’s car. With the buoyant thoughts of his goal in mind, the drive back to town, while just as familiar as the drive here, was less sickening. He could feel his parents’ protective spirits sitting with him, and he knew that they would be there so long as he needed them.

– 

Dick had been right. Wendy had made a huge lunch for the four of them.

Once they had finished eating, Mike offered to help in the kitchen as Danny eagerly dragged Dick away to show him what he had been working on all morning.

“Thank you, by the way,” Mike said.

Wendy smiled. “You’re more than welcome.”

“You mentioned extending your stay?”

“That’s right. Dick is like a father figure to Danny ever since Jack died. They don’t get to see one another very much, mostly when Dick is driving up from Florida to visit your parents’ graves and even then it’s only an overnight stay. I know you and Dick have a lot to talk about, but I can’t bear to drag Danny away just yet.” Wendy looked guilty at this, but Mike was quick to ease her apprehension. 

“I completely understand. He actually reminds me of a younger boy I was kept with, so it’s nice to have his energy around. I was mostly wondering about schooling.”

“Oh, I home school him, after all he’s been through… it’s just better that way. What about the property? You and Dick seemed in high spirits when you got back.”

“I can’t even begin to fathom how much work it will be, but I want to get it back up and running.”

Wendy smiled. “That’s a lovely idea, Mike.”

“I want to offer shelter to kids who need it which allows them to work the land and be around nature.”

“Would you consider opening it up to battered women?”

“I hadn’t thought of using it like that.”

“There are a lot of women who could use a place like that, a place to raise their children in safety.” Wendy sounded as if she was talking from experience, but Mike didn’t want to push the subject.

“That’s a great idea. Although I’d have no clue how to start that sort of shelter, and I don’t know how they would feel about it being a farm owned and run by men.”

“All good concerns.”

“I wonder, if you’re thinking about staying in Derry for awhile would you be willing to help me get in contact with the right sort of people to set up that sort of shelter? It wouldn’t be for everyone, as I don’t think some women would want to be around men again, but it still might be useful.”

Wendy paused in washing dishes. “That sounds wonderful. I’d be happy to help out in whatever way I can.”

“It’s a deal.”

“What’s a deal?” Halloran asked, coming into the kitchen with Danny on his back.

Wendy lifted Danny off of Dick’s shoulders, “how would you like to stay in Derry with Uncle Dick for a bit longer?”

“Really? You mean it?” Danny asked.

“Wendy?” Dick asked with a confused smile tugging at his lips.

“Mike has some work for me at the farm, and I want to help in whatever way I can.”

“What about work?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me so quickly?”

“You know I’m always happy to have you, but I don’t want your career to suffer.”

“Let me worry about that, after all I can commute to Brooklyn when they need me. Everything else I should be able to do remotely.”

“Yay!” Danny said, running around the kitchen.

Dick laughed as he began to give chase; Mike and Wendy watched fondly.

– 

After dinner Beverly had gotten a call from Detective Nell. He had said it was important, and that they needed to talk. She had gone into Ben’s room so as to have some privacy. But now here she was with life altering news, and she didn’t know what to make of it. She walked back into the small kitchen where Ben and Arlene were waiting. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn’t stop the tears from coming. Although nothing had changed about Jean’s house, with its narrow hallway and chintzy curtains Beverly felt as if she had stepped into an entirely new universe.

“Well?” Ben asked.

“My mom’s coming tomorrow. She’s flying in from England.” The words felt surreal coming from her mouth.

“That’s great news!”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” Beverly asked.

Arlene came to her and cupped her chin in her hand, directing Beverly’s gaze to her own. “How could she not?”

“What if I’m not what she expects?”

“You are beyond what any mother could dream of for their daughter. You are brave and smart and compassionate. Everything that has happened would not have been possible without you. You’ve got friends who love you and who you love in return, and you are well on your way to being a wonderful woman. Your mother would not be coming all that way if she didn’t want to get to know you.”

Beverly pulled Arlene to her and sobbed against her shoulder. The feelings which spun through her like fine filaments of glass were bright, and she could not distinguish the fear from elation. Any moment she thought they might shatter and she would be overwhelmed by her feelings, but for now all she knew was Arlene’s warmth and comfort. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Now it’s been a long day, we should all get some rest.” Arlene said, before bidding the two of them good night.

“You know she’s right. Your mom is going to love you.”

“Thanks, Ben.”

“How about you take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Ben, I can’t –”

“I insist. You deserve a good night’s sleep without having to worry about my cousin watching you in the night. You’d think he’s never seen a girl before.”

Beverly let out a soft chuckle. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She pressed a lazy kiss on Ben’s lips before going to bed. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but she knew she had Ben and the rest of her boys and that in the long run she would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely adored writing this chapter, and I hope you love it as much as I do.  
> We really are coming down to it, all the loose ends are beginning to be tied up. I am forever grateful to all the love and support this fic has gotten since its inception.   
> Please leave a comment letting me know what you think.  
> YRS.  
> Weaver


	32. Chapter 32

By 8:00 am the street outside Bangor’s courthouse was utter chaos. The city was not used to such sensational cases, or the press they brought, and had not prepared for the sidewalks which were now lined with reporters. 

That was nothing compared to the mess within.

Courtroom 3A was a first-session court, which on a good day worked as a well oiled machine delegating cases, balancing judges’ work loads, and appeasing the needs of whining plaintiffs. Today was not a good day, and the machine was already running behind. There had never been such a full docket, and chances were that they wouldn’t even get to all the arraignments that had been scheduled for the day. With these grim prospects ahead of them, courtroom officials kept their heads down as they prepared for the oncoming storm. There was a resigned nature to their actions, they weren’t strangers to the heartache and rage which filled their courts day in and day out. Today was just a larger shit storm than usual.

Detective Nell sat off to the side of the room with Jonesy and Sullivan to his right. People had begun filing in, and the room was taking on a claustrophobic feel. He watched as Sadie and her ADA’s prepared their table at the front of the room. It was going to be a hard day for them. He was sure their offices were pressuring them to close this as swiftly as possible since no town likes to have the guilty breathing free. But if Sadie felt the pressure, she didn’t show it. Her moves were fluid as a dancer’s, no panic or rush in them. Nell admired how she captained her assistants about, sorting out files and dividing the work. She was the figurehead on the prow of their ship, and she would guide them to safety.

By 9:30 a large number of defendants were led in and told to sit on the bench. Public defenders and lawyers alike sought out their clients and told them through glance alone not to do anything stupid.

By 10, Judge Alby entered the room. He was a stern looking man, the height of his seat did nothing to aid the harsh angles of his face nor the drooping jowls that came with old age. Nell thought he looked like a man that had swallowed something bitter and was doing a poor job of hiding it.

“Alby’s a good one,” Jonesy whispered, leaning over so that Nell could hear him. “Just the sort you’d want for this. Takes no nonsense, and isn’t interested in drawing these things out.”

The county clerk rose, “Case number oh five dash three six dash nine, the State of Maine v. Terry Rhulin, one count of illegal gambling and one count of child endangerment.”

Rhulin was led before the judge, a public defender stood beside him.

“How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” Rhulin said, spit coming from between his lips.

“State, I’ll hear you,” the judge said with a nod to Sadie’s side.

One of her ADA’s stepped forward preparing to argue the state’s case.

Nell yawned. It was going to be a long day.

– 

Maggie was humming to herself as she stepped out the hospital’s elevator. In her arms was a bouquet of flowers she had brought to cheer Bill up. She had come alone today, as Wentworth had gone to Bangor with Don to observe the hearings, and Richie and Eddie had taken Georgie over to see Mike’s new place. Her heart plummeted when she saw two uniformed officers in Bill’s room. Her grip tightened on the vase, her heels clicking loudly at her increased pace.

“Bill, what’s going on?”

Bill turned to look at her, a deep blush spread across his cheeks.

“Officer Leydecker, ma’am. I’m with the Derry Police force, or what’s left of it,” Leydecker gave a shy laugh. “And this is Officer Boyd from the Bangor Precinct, new regulations until investigations are through. Er… Bill called us to tell us more about the fight that happened in the gravel pit.”

“He called you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you m-mad?” Bill asked.

Maggie Tozier smiled down on him. “No I’m not mad, Bill. I’m proud of you. I’m so very proud.”

Bill relaxed at her words, and it was only then Maggie realized how important her response had been to him.

“I just have a few more questions for him, and then you can talk with him.” Leydecker said, guiding Maggie to the door.

She nodded, looking at Bill one last time before she went to go wait in the waiting room. It didn’t take long for the police to finish up with Bill, as they passed her Leydecker nodded his thanks. She rose from her seat, smoothing her skirt with one hand, and returned to Bill’s room.

She took her time setting the flowers on the wide sill where he would be able to see them, turning the arrangement this way and that until she found the most attractive angle. Once done she moved back to the seat which had been provided.

“How are you doing today, Bill?”

“Alright, t-thank you.”

Maggie smiled. “There’s some things I would like to talk to you about. They may take some time and consideration, and if you don’t feel like you’re in the right head space for that then we don’t have to go over those things now.”

“No I can handle it.”

“To begin, there’s the matter of your hearing. I have talked to Doctor Cho and she says that if we are to proceed with surgery that we ought to do it sooner rather than wait.”

“I can’t let you and Mr. Tozier pay for that.”

“Please, dear, don’t worry about the money. We are both okay with it. We want what is best for you and your brother. Do you believe me?”

Bill nodded.

“Then are you alright if Doctor Cho schedules you for surgery? From what I understand it isn’t complicated, and once it’s done you’ll be able to come home.” 

An expression Bill couldn’t read crossed Maggie’s face.

“W-what is it?”

She blinked rapidly, her eyes darting away from his. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to infer that you have to think of our home as yours –”

Bill reached out to her. “Thank you, for all you’re d-doing for me and Georgie. It means a lot.”

Maggie smiled despite her tears. “Of course, dear. You know I think Richie is becoming quite fond of having Georgie about the house.”

“Has he spoken yet?”

Maggie shook her head, and Bill’s heart sank.

“Wentworth was talking to one of his colleagues, Doctor Henry Devlin, a guest lecturer of child psychology who has his own private practice. He would be happy to see Georgie for a session, but we wanted to see what you thought about it.”

“W-why would you care about what I think?” Bill asked.

“We know how much you’ve looked after your brother since your parents’ death, we don’t want you to feel like we’re stepping in and taking away your autonomy. It’s important that you get a say. He’s your family. But we also don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this situation, after all in the eyes of the law you’re still a child.”

Bill tightened his fingers into as much of a fist as he could manage with all the bandages. He was unused to the unconditional kindness which seemed to spring from the Toziers so naturally. After all they had done and offered, he didn’t want her to see him cry.

“Bill, can you tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I think that’s a g-great idea, but I w-want to be able to go with him to his first appointment.”

Maggie smiled. “I think that can be arranged. Now, you’ve had a busy morning so I’ll let you rest. I’m going to find Doctor Cho and discuss your surgery. Have a good rest of your day, Bill, and try not to worry too much about the rest.”

Bill nodded. 

Maggie seemed reluctant to leave him, but with one last look she did. He watched her walk down the hall, disappearing around a corner no doubt headed for the nurses’ station to get in contact with Doctor Cho. Despite her encouragement that he try and rest, his thoughts drifted to an unknown courthouse whose decisions would cast shadows on the fate of his life.

– 

“Case number oh five dash three two dash one, the State of Maine v. Frank Dunning, multiple counts of illegal gambling, one count of aiding in an abduction, one count of murder in the second degree, one count of aggravated assault of a police officer, and one count of child endangerment.”

“How do you plead, Mr. Dunning?”

“Not guilty.” 

“State?”

Sadie rose. “The State recommends no bail due to the serious nature of the defendant’s crimes, and his history of spousal abuse.”

“Counselor?” The Judge asked, turning to Dunning’s lawyer.

“Your Honor, my client has paid his dues to society and the outcome of his former trial should not be held against him.”

“Multiple counts of spousal abuse are proof of character and are related to the case the State is building.”

The Judge thought for a moment before reading out Dunning’s sentence. “I agree with the State. No bail. The defendant will be sent to Shawshank State Prison until trial. I am assigning the case to Judge Lawrence. Next.”

– 

Mike had just finished a tour of the small rental, and now Eddie, Richie, and Georgie were crammed in his bedroom. There was barely enough room for the gangly teenagers, as it was Eddie had to perch on top of Mike’s desk. They had the house to themselves as Halloran had taken Wendy and Danny to the grocery store to stock up. It felt nice seeing is friends, being able to show them what few things he had. All his old possessions were still tied up with the case, but Dick and Wendy had been sure to go shopping with him, and it felt good to have things which weren’t associated with the past. Things that were just his own.

“It’s a nice set up, Mikey,” Richie said, flopping down on Mike’s bed. Immediately, Mr. Chips who had been devotedly following them, leaped up on the bed and began snuffling at Richie’s chest. Richie laughed with delight, before scratching the old dog behind his ears.

Mike bit his cheek to keep from grinning too broadly, but he couldn’t stop swinging his desk chair back and forth in delight. “What about your news, Eddie? Living with Ben and Arlene in Castle Rock? That’s great!”

Eddie flushed, but there was no hiding his excitement. “I can’t wait. Arlene showed us the house yesterday and it’s really open and sunny. I think it’s the prettiest house I’ve ever seen. She said she’s going to put an offer in this week, and hopefully we’ll be able to move out there within a month or two. Ben was even talking about some ideas to help remodel the house with your mom, Richie, but he wants to keep it as a surprise for his mom… for Mom, I mean.”

Richie whistled. “Mom? You move fast, Eds.”

“Shut up, Richie. It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

“Mom – Arlene – she didn’t want to pressure me into calling her anything I wasn’t comfortable with, but it doesn’t feel right to just call her by her name. Mike, what are you calling your godfather?”

“Oh, I’ve been referring to him as Dick, but Wendy suggested I try Uncle Dick as that’s what he asked Danny to call him. To be honest I don’t think that he cares what title I use. He told me that he’s not trying to replace my parents,” Mike said with a shrug.

Eddie nodded. While he respected Mike’s choice, he knew the situation was different for him. He wanted Arlene to replace what Robert had been, what his mother had failed to be. He liked the idea of calling her mom, and as considering Ben his brother. For the first time in his life he felt like he was wanted, and not just a burden to be thrown around without thought of consequence to him. But he didn’t know how to express such things, so he remained silent.

In the natural lull, Mike glanced over to Georgie, checking his reaction. While the other boy still wasn’t speaking, he wasn’t very good at hiding his emotions. Mike could tell from his tense posture that he was stressed about something. If he had to guess it would be the fact that the Denbroughs’ living situation had yet to be finalized. He wanted to hurry on to another topic, so as to not draw attention to Georgie’s discomfort; however, as he mentally fumbled for something suitable a car could be heard pulling in.

Mike rose to see who it was. He recognized Wendy’s beat up Volvo Station Wagon. After parking, Wendy got out and she began passing bags to Danny and Uncle Dick. He wasn’t sure of Wendy and Dick’s relationship, whether they were merely friends or something more, but already he considered her family.

“C’mon guys, we should go help them.”

Richie groaned, but offered no further protest before getting up and following Mike downstairs. Eddie and Georgie came next, with Mr. Chips on their heels.

“Hello, Wendy. These are my friends, we came to see if you need any help.” Mike said as he reached the front lawn.

“Thank you, Mike! There are some more bags in the trunk,” Wendy said with a smile.

Richie took over operations then, with a martial pose he began passing bags to the others, being sure to give the lightest to Georgie without seeming to. Danny watched from the porch with amusement.

“C’mon, Danny, let’s go give a hand,” Wendy said with a wink.

Together he and Wendy crossed the small yard to where Richie was.

“Danny Torrence, reporting for duty!” Danny said.

Richie smiled down at the kid, who was so much like Georgie it hurt his heart to see how silent the other boy remained. “Thank you, Private. Why don’t you take these bags in and help Mikey unload them. It’s KP duty for us all, I’m afraid.”

“Aye aye, sir!” Danny said, his arms loaded down with two relatively light bags.

Richie watched him waddle off towards the kitchen.

“Thanks for that. He already hero worships Mike, and now there’s no doubt he’ll worship his friends too.”

“Happy to help, ma’am,” Richie said with a wink.

“Please it’s Wendy.”

Richie helped Wendy with the last few bags, before shutting the trunk and following her into the house. The kitchen was a hive of activity as Dick and Mike guided Eddie and the younger boys on where to put away the groceries. It reminded Richie of when his parents had rented a cabin one summer with the Urises and they had to bought enough food to last a month instead of the two weeks they were staying. It was a nice energy.

As he got to work, Richie couldn’t help but notice how closely Wendy was watching Georgie. He was more withdrawn, keeping his eyes averted. He was especially careful not to get too close to Wendy or Danny. Richie hated to see him retreat, and guessed that it must be the presence of strangers. He had no chance to ask Wendy about her careful observance in private, so by the end of the day he guessed that it must just be a mother’s concern. He didn’t know how far from the truth he was.

– 

“Case number oh five dash four seven dash five, the State of Maine v. Norbert Keene, one count of illegal gambling, one count of possession of a schedule III substance, one count of distribution of a schedule III substance, one count of possession of child pornography, multiple counts of child endangerment.”

“How do you plead?”

Norbert Keene squeaked out an answer.

“What was that?”

“Not guilty, your Honor.”

“Very well. State?”

“Due to the severity of the charges the State requests no bail –”

“Objection, your honor, my client is a first time offender –”

“And therefore he has a lot at stake. He is a flight risk, your Honor.”

The judge looked between the two parties. “Overruled, counselor. Bail will be set for thirty-thousand. I am assigning the case to Judge Warren. The court will take a short recess.”

Nell rose and stretched his limbs. There was an ache in his neck, that no amount of rubbing could make go away. He headed for the court doors, desperate to see the sunlight and have some fresh air. As he walked he opened his phone to see that Nancy had messaged him with Elfrida’s travel itinerary. He forwarded the message to Arlene. Nancy had been right, today was much to busy for him to handle Ms. Phillips’ arrival and he was grateful he had a team he could trust. He only wished he could be there for the lassie, and that her hopes wouldn’t be too terribly high. 

– 

Beverly had barely slept last night. She had been too nervous, excited, no nervous. Her thoughts were in a tail spin as she wondered what her mother would be like. And then she remembered that her father was being charged today, and the effusive warmth in her drained out just as quickly as it had come. He had tried calling her, but she had nothing to say to him. 

She wasn’t his little girl anymore. She had stopped being so a long time ago, but his arrest was a concrete end. Any remaining love for him which might have remained had been gutted from her. She hated him for doing nothing to save those boys, for taking pleasure from their pain, for making her feel so empty. She would never get her childhood back. He had taken that too.

But she didn’t want to focus on the hatred and grief, not today. Not with her mother’s arrival on the horizon. Beverly hurried to get ready for the day, setting all thoughts of her father behind her. They were through.

– 

“Case number oh-six dash two three dash seven, the State of Maine v. Alvin Marsh, multiple counts of illegal gambling, multiple counts of child endangerment, and one count of illegal distribution of a schedule I substance. How do you plead?”

– 

Beverly sat in the back seat of Arlene’s rental car as they drove to Bangor’s international airport. She was wearing her best dress and Ben’s necklace. She couldn’t stop fiddling with it as she watched the scenery rush by. She knew Ben was watching her closely in the rearview mirror, but looking at his sweet concerned eyes only twisted her gut up more. At the end of the day this was something she had to face alone. No matter how many supportive things he said or did, it was about her and her mother. So right now she couldn’t look at him, all she could do was watch the farmland and forests roll by like some film in fast forward.

Sitting beside her was a messenger bag. In it was her mother’s journal, tucked in its pages was her photograph. When her eyes ached with the rolling blues and greens she turned to her bag and pulled out the photo. Her fingers traced the round lines of Elfrida’s face and Beverly prayed to whatever god existed that her mother’s smile had not changed, and that she would be able to recognize it.

–

“Not guilty, your honor.” Alvin Marsh flashed a smile, the same one which had won the attentions of a young Elfrida Phillips.

“State?”

“The State recommends a bail of six thousand surety of eighteen thousand. We would also like to issue a No Contact Order on behalf of the defendant’s daughter,” the ADA said.

“I’ve never done anything to her,” Marsh said, momentarily loosing his cool. His lawyer whispered something into his ear.

The ADA didn’t react to his outburst, and continued as if nothing had occurred. “Your Honor, based on the defendant’s predilections to underage violence, he is an unfit parent –”

“Objection, the State has no evidence that Mr. Marsh is an unfit parent and is reaching –”

“Overruled. The court will grant a No Contact Order. Bail is set for six thousand. The case will be sent to Judge Warren. Next.”

Marsh was led away, whispering hastily with his counselor. Nell thought for a moment that Alvin shot him a dirty look, but he knew it was his own conscious as the man could have no knowledge what Nell had done in order to find his ex-wife. He hoped Alvin would never see his daughter again.

– 

Arlene led Beverly to the airport’s main pick-up terminal, keeping her arm around Beverly’s shoulder the entire time. Elfrida’s flight had been scheduled to land ten minutes ago, and according to all the boards it had arrived on time.

As people rushed by them, luggage trailing behind them, Beverly scanned the crowd for a face she had only dreamed about.

“Aunt Ellie, she’s over here!”

From the crowd came a trio of redheads, led by a girl Beverly’s age. They could have been sisters. The only differences were that the stranger’s hair was a darker shade of red, and instead of freckles her skin was unmarked. It was like looking in a mirror. Beyond the girl came two women, one was much too tall to be her mother, so Beverly’s gaze settled on the other.

Elfrida no longer looked like the photo. She was a little slimmer, as she had been pregnant with Bev in the photo, and she was shorter than Beverly had imagined. But when she smiled the same dimple appeared as well as the warmth which suffused from her face. She dropped her niece’s hand and ran to Beverly, pausing only when she was within an arm’s reach of her daughter.

“Bev –”

Even this distant felt too great, and Beverly fell into her mother’s arm, sobbing. She felt her mother tense for a moment, and a million thoughts that she had done wrong began to flood Beverly’s mind. They were strangers. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this sort of intimacy. She had spent a lot of years not as a mother, maybe she didn’t want to be a mother. Not really. Terrified Beverly began to pull away, when Elfrida’s grip tightened like a vice. Despite her size, she was surprisingly strong, and she clung to Beverly with all her might.

Beverly felt herself relaxing into the unfamiliar perfume and she realized that while she knew nothing of her mother, there was something familiar in the way she held her.

When Beverly felt as if she could finally pull away, her mother took her face into her soft, round hands.

“My darling, let me look at you. You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman,” Elfrida said with the barest hint of a London accent.

Beverly could feel tears running down her cheeks, and her mother brushed them gently away.

“I want you to meet your Aunt Mira and cousin, Audra.” Elfrida said, tucking Beverly’s arm into her own and bringing her to meet a family she had never known she had.

“Hello, Beverly.” Mira said, pulling Beverly into a hug.

Next Beverly greeted Audra, her accent was the strongest of the three. “Aunt Ellie was so thrilled when she heard that you were looking for her –”

“Audra,” her mother scolded her.

“Sorry,” Audra blushed. “I just don’t have any girl cousins, I can’t help but think of you as the sister I’ve always wanted.”

Beverly laughed, and couldn’t help but feel a natural affinity for the friendly girl before her. “Mom, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Ben, and his mother, Arlene. I’ve been staying with them since the arrests.”

Elfrida’s smile turned mischievous. “Boyfriend?”

“Hello Ms. Phillips,” Ben said, offering his hand.

“Oh please, call me Ellie. What a charming young man,” Ellie said, nudging her daughter.

Ben flushed.

“Hello, Ellie. Your daughter has been an absolutely lovely house guest,” Arlene said coming to greet Beverly’s mom.

“Thank you for looking out for her,” Ellie said with tears in her eyes. She blinked viciously with a laugh, “I told myself I wouldn’t cry.”

“It must have been a long flight. Why don’t we get you to your hotel so you can settle in,” Arlene said.

“Thank you. That sounds wonderful.”

Ben offered to take her luggage, so that she and Beverly could walk together.

Audra hurried to catch up with him, leaving their mothers to talk softly together. “Ben, right?”

He nodded.

“I want to know everything about my cousin, but since she’s busy reconnecting with Aunt Ellie, I was hoping you might be able to fill me in. What sorts of music does she like? What’s her favorite film? Does she like chocolate? I hope so! I brought her these delicious little chocolates from the store around the corner from our flat and – I’m sorry, there’s so much I want to know.”

Ben laughed and began to tell Audra about his wonderful girlfriend.

Once as they walked through the airport halls, Beverly looked back and she saw Audra and Ben chatting. She smiled at her boyfriend, he nodded in acknowledgment, before returning her attention to her mother.

“Where was I?” Beverly asked.

“You were telling me about school. I feel as if there is so much I’ve missed out on.”

“I know, but you’re here now?” Beverly hadn’t meant to pose it as a question, but it just sort of came out that way. She looked to her mother to see if she was offended.

Ellie Phillips smiled. It seemed like that was all she could do at the moment. “I don’t intend on going anywhere.”

Beverly thought that eventually she would stop feeling the relief which ran through her body like tingling chills, but it just kept coming. If she thought about it it would take a while for the comfort and reassurance to settle in, for her to believe that this was all real.

By now they had reached Arlene’s rental. Even though it was larger than her own car it was still a tight fit, with the luggage and so many passengers, but no one thought to complain. Instead the car was full of friendly chatter as in such close quarters a private conversation was impossible.

Ben was in the front, his seat pushed as far forward as he could. But he twisted in his seat so that he, Audra, and Beverly could converse. The adults listened to the cheerful banter of school friends and high school drama with smiles as they remembered their own youths.

They finally reached the hotel, and yet there was still so much Beverly felt she had to say to her mother. There was so much she wanted to know.

“I booked a room with two beds, if you want to stay with me,” Ellie said, suddenly becoming shy.

“Oh.”

“No pressure, of course. And I still want to take you out to lunch tomorrow so we can catch up properly, just the two of us, but I don’t want to be a burden to Arlene as I know Bangor isn’t super close to Derry.”

Beverly looked to Arlene.

Arlene smiled. “Whatever choice you make, Bev, isn’t a burden for me.”

“Are you sure?” Beverly asked.

“Of course.”

Beverly looked back to her mother, there was a hopeful expectancy in her eyes which she saw in Audra’s as well. And as much as she wanted to fulfill those desires, it was all a bit much. She felt herself longing for something familiar. She needed to be grounded, and all she knew was Derry – despite its flaws it was her home. “I’m sorry, Mom. But I really think I need to spend the night at home. I hope you understand.”

Ellie’s smile softened. “Of course, darling. I know this is all so much to take in. It was wrong of me to request it. There will be plenty of time to get to know each other.”

Mira and Audra went ahead to check in, leaving Ellie and Beverly together on the sidewalk.

“Are you sure you’re okay with that? I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me, Beverly. Never.” Ellie leaned up on her toes to kiss Beverly’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Beverly watched her mom go into the hotel, that immense sense of relief tingling through her once again.

–

Nell stretched his back. Court was adjourned for the day, and they had yet to begin the principle arraignments. Jonesy wished him and Sullivan a good evening as he had to go back to the precinct. Beyond the bar, Sadie and her ADAs and interns were gathering their files as some of the other lawyers chatted with one another about how the day went.

The rest of the court began to clear out, and Nell caught sight of Mr. Tozier and Uris. They nodded at him and he smiled back. He was sure they would be telling their families about today’s proceedings, and he only hoped that tomorrow would go as smoothly.

Sadie had finished gathering her papers, and she joined them on their side of the court. Her ADAs trailing behind her like goslings.

“How do you feel about today,” Sullivan asked.

She nodded to her followers to continue without her. “Truthfully. I’m exhausted. I keep thinking about all the cases ahead, and everything which will need to be organized and sent to the different defense. Not the mention the witness lists which will need to be collected and approved –”

“Hey, that’s all downstream from now. No sense worrying about it now,” Sullivan said kindly.

Sadie forced a smile. “Thanks, Mack. I know you’re right. I just hope we do these kids justice. Some of these men deserve to be behind bars for the rest of their lives.”

“They will be. With the deals Bowers and Hockstetter cut there’s not a chance of Gray seeing the light of day. What about Keene?”

“It was stupid of him to plead not guilty, you could see it on his lawyer’s face. But it’s the only way for him to try and save his neck and he knows it. A man like that has power through his job, and if he loses it he loses his identity. He wasn’t going to just lay down and take prison time. He’ll put up a fight, and he’ll lose.”

“Good.”

“I’d better go prepare for tomorrow’s hearings. I’ll see you then.”

“Be sure to get some rest, Sadie.”

She smiled, but made no such promise.

The two older cops watched her leave.

“You know what she looks like?” Sullivan asked.

“A candle burning at both ends.”

“No way she can keep this up.”

“She’ll find a way. That woman is a fighter.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Faith, Sullivan.”

The two men walked out into the fading day, and head back to their hotel determined to not think about the cases until tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support on the last chapter it really means so much to me!! I LOVED reading your comments.  
> I've finally figured out a rough approximation of how many chapters we have left, and we really are getting close. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as it took me forever to research, write, and edit. I would love to hear your thoughts below.  
> YRS.  
> Weaver


	33. Chapter 33

Even in the pouring rain the reporters were camped before the courthouse for the second day of arraignments. They flocked around Nell like black crows as soon as they caught sight of him. Their ghoulish wings were sodden raincoats flapping in the wind. Their raucous cries emphasized only by the clicking of their cameras, the sound of beaks snapping down on prey.

Nell tried to push through them, but as their words clogged the air, their bodies blocked his path.

“Detective Nell, is it true that you were the one to bring this case to the attention of the Maine State Police?”

“Detective Nell, who was your source?”

“No comment,” Nell said, brushing past the reporters with some difficulty. He began taking the steps two at a time, trying not to look like he was running.

“Is it true that the DA’s office is offering Butch Bowers a deal?”

“Can you speak to what will happen to the Derry Delinquents after this?”

Nell froze. He turned. “The what?”

“The children of the ring who are still in police custody: the Bowers, the Hockstetters, and Corcoran boys?”

“Why aren’t the others in custody? Protective or otherwise?”

The reporters seemed to hang on the silence with baited breath. Within his coat pocket, unseen to them, Nell tightened his balled his hand into a tight fist. What he wouldn’t give to just start swinging, damage their precious cameras. He swallowed down the fury. It would do him no good, but still his words came out sharper than he intended.

“You are not to create a cutesy nickname to infantilize these suspects. Many of them were aware of the physical and emotional harm they were causing and enjoyed it. They are not some internet darling which you can hang your claim to fame on. They are not misunderstood and are not to be romanticized. But it makes for a good story, right? Incompetent police holding children who despite the evidence should be pardoned due to their youth and misguided parenting. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

The reporter who asked the initial question was clearly taken aback by his tone.

Before they could ask him anything else, Nell ducked into the courthouse.

Inside the doors he saw Sadie watching him with a calculating look. She had seen the whole thing.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know.”

“It won’t help them.” Them being Robert Gray’s former wards.

“I know.”

“The press has already formed their own opinions. Right now they believe all the children to be victims of their parents’ abuse. They don’t know the difference between Mike and Bill and the Hockstetters or Bowers because no one has told them what to think. We have to shift the narrative, but they will never accept it if you go throwing tantrums. You don’t live or work here, Detective. These people are hard-headed New Englanders, set in their ways. That is not the way to convince them they are wrong. Trust me on this.”

“You’re right, Sadie. I’m sorry.”

“Good. Now let’s go prepare for another long day.”

They walked through security together, Nell waiting as Security paused to scan Sadie’s bag, and headed back to courtroom 3A. He was aware of the squelch of his shoes in the cavernous halls, and he did his best to minimize it. He couldn’t help but feel like he was only drawing more attention to himself, and after what had happened out front that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Sadie had been right to reprimand him. He had been unprofessional out there. He knew it was because he was too close to the case to keep objectivity. He loved these kids, and for the moment he had let his admiration blind him. It would not happen again. They could not afford to let it happen again.

“Where’s Sullivan?” Sadie asked.

“He said he’d be in later, he had some duties to attend to regarding internal affairs.”

Sadie hummed.

“How’s the docket looking for today?”

“Good. I hope to get through the rest of the major arraignments today, but we may run into delays with some of their lawyers. Particularly Mr. Gray’s.”

“Oh?”

“He has been less than accommodating to say the least.”

Nell hummed. No surprise there.

They reached courtroom 3A, and ducked into the already crowded room.

Sadie parted from Nell, going to join in her team at their table. As soon as she arrived, Nell watched as she was drawn into conversation by her ADAs as they prepared for today’s docket. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Nell turned to see Wentworth Tozier waving at him. Beside him sat Donald Uris.

He went to where the two men were seated.

“Good morning. I hope the drive wasn’t too bad with all this rain,” he said in form of greeting.

Wentworth smiled, “luckily I drove yesterday so today was Don’s turn.”

“Thanks for that, by the way,” Don said dryly.

Wentworth patted Don’s shoulder fondly.

“So how do you find these arraignment hearings?” asked Nell.

“Alright, afraid most of it goes over my head. I just want to see them get what they deserve,” Wentworth said.

“I’m afraid it will be awhile until justice truly gets served, but this is an important start.”

“Awhile?” Wentworth asked.

“Couple months at least.”

“A couple months?”

“Sure. In cases like this after the arraignment, the defense will likely waive minimum time so that they have more time to build their own case. The court usually gives them a few months to prepare, but there are other factors which must be taken into consideration.”

“And this is standard?”

Nell nodded. He didn’t bother to mention how flawed the justice system could be, and how often they got things wrong. It wasn’t alway black and white in the courtroom as jury members and witnesses could throw off even the best lawyer’s argument. But right now that wasn’t what these men needed to hear. Nell knew whatever he told them would get back to their wives and ultimately the children, and he didn’t want them to know how imperfect the judicial system could be. He realized that Donald had asked him a question, but having missed it, he asked him to repeat it.

“Will you need to be here for all of that?” Donald asked again.

Nell shook his head. “Unlikely. I will of course be in contact with the prosecution should they need any further information from me, but most of the responsibilities will pass to Chief Sullivan.”

“What about the children?” Wentworth asked.

“I won’t leave until they are properly settled.”

Wentworth seemed to relax at that.

As they were talking Jonesy entered the courtroom. He saw Nell and made his way over to them.

“Detective Jones, these are my friends Wentworth Tozier and Donald Uris,” Nell said once he had approached.

“Jonesy, please. And I hear it’s your boys we ought to be thanking,” Jonesy said as he enthusiastically pumped their hands up and down.

Wentworth looked to Donald and laughed softly. “They’re pretty marvelous.”

“They get it from their mothers,” Donald said with the same dry humor his son possessed.

The two detectives laughed.

Jonesy checked his watch. “Court will be in session soon. We’d better take our seats.”

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” Nell said.

Jonesy nodded and headed off to find seats.

“How are the young Denbroughs holding up?”

“They’re taking it well for their age. Bill goes into surgery later this week, but then he’ll come home. Of course Georgie hasn’t spoken yet, we’re talking to a specialist from my university. And he’s still having nightmares,” Wentworth sighed.

Nell clucked his tongue sympathetically.

“But from what you were telling me the others have closed ranks around him,” Donald said, eager to defend his friend from any misinterpretation Nell might have about Went’s abilities as a father.

“Yes, that’s true enough. Richie hasn’t left Georgie’s side. We pulled them out of school for the time being with everything going on. Principal Johns was very understanding.”

“It is quite the period of adjustment.” Nell said.

“Derry has been turned upside down.”

“For the better?”

“Yes, at least that’s the general consensus.” 

Donald nodded his agreement.

The court stirred a bit before beginning to settle. It was nearly 10. Nell made his pardons and went to sit by Jonesy. It would be another long day in court.

“All rise for the honorable Judge Alby,” The bailiff said.

“Be seated.”

“Case number oh five dash four one dash three, the State of Maine v. Richard Macklin, multiple counts of child endangerment, multiple counts of illegal gambling.”

“How do you plead?”

“Guilty, your Honor.”

There was some commotion in the audience, no doubt surprised to hear someone actually admit their guilt.

“I sentence you to fifteen years at Shawshank Penitentiary and a fine of $30,000.”

The bailiff came and took Richard Macklin away.

“Case number oh five dash four one dash four, the State of Maine v. Veronica Hockstetter, multiple counts of child endangerment, multiple counts of illegal gambling, one count of aiding in abduction.”

As Veronica Hockstetter was being led to her lawyer, Sadie Epping rose. She straightened her suit coat before picking up a file.

“Your honor the District Attorney’s office is prepared to offer the defendant a deal in response to her testimony against Mr. Robert Gray.”

“I’ll hear you, counselor.”

“We are offering her a reduced sentence of ten years, so long as she remains willing to testify in court.”

The Judge turned to the defense attorney, “does your client accept the terms of this deal?”

“Yes, your Honor.”

“Should she fail to testify in court against Robert Gray her sentence will be returned to what it should have been. Is that understood?” Alby said, directing his attention to Ronnie Hockstetter.

The lawyer turned to his client implying that she needed to show that she understood. 

Veronica nodded as a sign of understanding.

“Mrs. Hockstetter, how do you plead?”

Ronnie Hockstetter eyes flitted over to Sadie, the emotion there was unreadable. She licked her lips and faced the judge. “Guilty, your Honor.”

The gavel came down. “Ten years at Maine Correctional Center with a fine of $30,000. Next.”

As Ronnie Hockstetter was led away, and the next case was called the courtroom grew restless. It was obvious they were surprised with the deal Mrs. Hockstetter had made, and they were uncomfortable with its implications. Mixed with the discomfort was curiosity. Everyone was wondering what little Ronnie Hockstetter had to offer that was so important to the prosecution’s case. They would not get an answer to that question for another three months.

“Case number oh five dash four one dash five, the State of Maine v. Oscar Bowers, multiple counts of child endangerment, multiple counts of illegal gambling, one count for organization of illegal activity, one count for police misconduct, one count for murder in the first degree, one count for arson, and one count of abduction in the second degree.”

The court settled into an unnatural stillness as Butch Bowers was led to where his lawyer was. The weight of his charge seemed to sit upon everyone, most of all him. Even though he had only been in custody a few days he seemed to have lost weight. Largely this was due to his change in posture, he was collapsed in on himself, all the confidence he had once possessed was stripped of him when he lost his badge. There were dark circles under his eyes. He looked like a hunted man. His eyes darted nervously from his lawyer to the Judge to Mrs. Epping and back again.

“Your honor,” Sadie said, standing once more. “The District Attorney’s office is willing to offer the defendant jail time spent at a lower security prison in exchange for his cooperation and testimony against his partner Mr. Robert Gray.”

The Judge leaned forward obviously interested. It wasn’t every day the State offered such leniency. “And you believe that defendant’s testimony is key to Mr. Gray’s case?”

“Paramount, your Honor.”

“Defense?”

Bowers’ lawyer rose. “My client is willing to accept, your Honor.”

“I see. Mr. Bowers, how do you plead.”

“Guilty.” Although the words came out in a raspy whisper they filled the courtroom.

“Mr. Bowers you will be placed into protective custody at Maine State Penitentiary. After the trial you will be reassigned to a more permanent facility. You are also being fined $500,000.” The gavel came down.

Bowers looked panicked. He hadn’t expected his protective custody to be in a maximum-security prison. He turned to his lawyer, wanting to protest but it was too late for him. He was led away, struggling weakly at the bailiff’s arms.

Most of the court looked away, tried to give him some decency. But beside Nell, Jonesy watched with a cruel hatred that could only come from Bowers’ betrayal of the badge. Nell didn’t hold that against him.

–

It was quarter til twelve when Arlene dropped Beverly off in front of an upscale restaurant in downtown Bangor. “Alright, dear, have a wonderful lunch.”

“Thanks, Arlene. For everything.”

“Of course. Now if things run late I have a shift at the hospital, but Andrea said she’d be happy to come pick you up. Do you have her number?”

Beverly nodded.

“Alright, perfect. I can’t wait to hear how it goes.”

It almost seemed like Arlene was more nervous than Beverly, the way her eyes flitted from Beverly to the road and back again. Beverly wanted to comfort Arlene, but she found her own nerves surprisingly on edge. All she could offer was one last reassuring smile.

Beverly stepped out of the car into the dismal gray day. This morning’s rain had mostly stopped, but a fine layer of mist lay on everything, leaving the street and sidewalk slick and dark. Beverly walked briskly to the front of the restaurant, careful not to slip, a valet hastening to open the door for her. She shot the young man a smile. He looked about her age, perhaps a little older, and she felt bad that he had to spend all afternoon being misted upon.

Inside there were hushed murmurs of polite conversation, and Beverly felt as if her presence was too loud, too country. She was wearing one of Ben’s button downs tucked into a skirt, a scrap of black ribbon tied at the collar. It was probably the second nicest outfit she had, the first being the dress she wore yesterday, and half of it wasn’t hers. The restaurant made her suddenly self conscious of the fact that what she was wearing wasn’t right. This wasn’t her world. She wondered was it her mother’s? She longed to wrap her fingers around the chain of her necklace, but it was tucked under her blouse. She was left to stand awkwardly in the foyer as she scanned the establishment for her mother’s petite form.

It didn’t take long for her to find her mother. As she approached, Beverly realized that her mom was on the phone with someone. Again she was struck by how little she knew the woman before her.

Ellie caught her eye and smiled before hurrying her goodbyes. “– I told you I’ll be back when I get back. This is more important. She’s here now. I’ll call you later. Yes, yes. Goodbye, Clark. I said I’d call later.” 

Ellie hung up the phone and rose to hug Beverly. “Hello, darling. Sorry about him, work is going into a tizzy without Mira and me there.”

“You work together?” Beverly asked, taking her seat.

“We started our own fashion house after – after I left the states. She’s got a head for business which allows me to pursue my passion for design. We’re beginning prep for our spring showing, and Clark, our publicist, is less than thrilled that we both stepped away.”

Beverly nodded. They were dangerously close to broaching the topic of living situation. While Beverly was thrilled to have her mother back, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to pick up and move her life to London. It was an awkward conversation ahead of them, but there was no avoiding it just delaying it for the time being.

Beverly blushed as she realized she had been lost in thought. 

“You know you look absolutely beautiful in that outfit. Very chic.” Ellie said with a conspiratorial wink.

Instantly Beverly felt better about her choice in wardrobe. It was as if her mother had sensed her insecurities and known how to soothe them away. She began to worry less about this being her mother’s world, and instead focused on how it to make it theirs.

A waiter came and took their orders, once he was gone Beverly’s mother leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she studied her daughter.

“So I’m sure you must have some questions for me, and I think it best that we get those out of the way,” Ellie said. The only thing which betrayed her nerves was the shake in her voice.

“What happened? Dad always said you left us, but I know now that isn’t the whole story.”

A sad smile crossed Ellie’s lips. “Your father and I were high school sweethearts. We’d grown up together and mistook that for intimacy. We rushed the relationship, and even though I knew almost nothing about him I was so happy when he proposed. It felt like a fairy tale. We had a small courthouse wedding, not much by anyone’s standards but it was enough for me.

After that he began to show his true colors. He came home from the Falcon Bar reeking of beer and cigarettes, and when I tried to address it he – well he wasn’t very kind. He apologized the next day, blamed it on the booze. I was too naive to know better.

And then I got pregnant with you. I was so hopeful. I thought that it would make everything better. And for awhile it did. Things were good, and I remembered why I had fallen for him in the first place. He was charming, brought me flowers, showered me with gifts…”

Beverly felt a chill cross her spine. It all sounded so familiar.

“I thought he had changed. It was like you were the answer I had been searching for, but children can’t patch up a bad relationship. It isn’t their jobs to do so. I realized that as soon as you were born. You were a miracle, Bev. But it wasn’t fair of me to expect you to fix what could never be fixed. I know now that all the presents were out of guilt. It was just a facade.

Your father returned to his ways of going out drinking with his friends, leaving you and me alone in that apartment for hours on end. I couldn’t get a job, because we couldn’t afford a sitter. So I had to take in what sewing work I could. 

I tried to speak to him about his spending habits…but it didn’t go well. In fact things started getting worse. He never touched you, but he began to threaten me that he would. That’s when I knew I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t keep putting you at risk.” Ellie blinked away her tears. “I thought about running away so many times. I even packed our bags one night, but I couldn’t bear to go through with it. I thought he would hunt us down and that he would take you away from me. Fathers don’t generally win custody battles, but he could be so charming when he wanted to be and I felt like I was one mistake from unraveling completely. I’d freeze up in front of a lawyer. I couldn’t chance it. My only option was to run.

But somehow he found out. I don’t know how. I was so careful. I had everything ready for us to get away. I had a cousin in New York, and then when the paperwork was finalized we would go to London to live with Mira. But he found out and he –” Ellie broke off. There was no blinking these tears away.

“You don’t have to go through this again, Mom,” Beverly said, placing her hand on Ellie’s.

“You deserve to know. He told me that I was a terrible mother, and if I wanted out so badly I should just leave. He told me he didn’t want me around any more. That I was a bad influence on you and if I stayed under his roof a second longer he’d kill you and then me. He said that the only way to save you was to relinquish any claim I had to you. I didn’t doubt his power to do it, not for one second. I left without any of the bags I’d packed or money I’d stashed away. I couldn’t go to New York. It was too far. So for three years I lived here.”

“Here? As in Bangor?”

Ellie nodded. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I had ever been asked to do, I couldn’t cross a whole ocean.”

“You didn’t think he would find you?”

Ellie jutted out her chin, and suddenly Beverly realized that fire within her may not have come from her father like she first suspected. “Your father never thought much of Bangor. Occasionally he’d go down to Castle Rock or the Lot for work, but never here. He thought it was too gentrified for his tastes. I hid here for three years, until your Aunt Mira came to get me.

She said I had been languishing for too long, and that I needed to live my life. It was then she saw all the sketches I had done and she realized that we could start our own company. She’d always known people in the industry, left Derry as soon as she was old enough, she had the connections. And she had a little girl who looked so much like you. I didn’t want to go, but I couldn’t stay. I was dying here. Even though I was free of him, it was like he was still winning. I needed a fresh start, Mira understood that before I did. So I went to England and we started Phillips & Co. 

But I never forgot about you. I don’t want you to think that. Everyday when I wake up I wonder what you’re doing. If you’re happy? If he treated you right? I have the Derry News sent expressly to my London flat. I get it a few days late because of the post, but I look for any mention of you hoping that nothing bad has happened.

And when I got word that you were searching for me, and your father was being arrested for illegal gambling I knew I had to come back for you. I want us to be a family, Beverly. I know we can’t go back, but I don’t want to lose you again. What do you think?”

“I’d really like that.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. Now enough about me, I want to hear about you.”

Beverly began to tell her mom about everything which had led to her reaching out. She told her mom about her childhood friends, and the ones she had met more recently. As she spoke their food arrived, but they hardly noticed. They were too busy in the past.

“You seem happy here,” Ellie said when Beverly had finished.

“I am. It’s home.”

“London could be your home too.”

Beverly looked away. She couldn’t delay this conversation any longer.

“I know this is all happening so fast, but I think if you give it a chance you might really like it.”

“What about school?” What about my friends? Ben? 

“I’m not sure yet, this is new for me too. But just promise you’ll think about it.”

Beverly nodded.

Ellie forced a smile. Awkwardly the conversation was shifted, but the thought of the future hung over the rest of lunch like a specter.

After lunch Ellie ordered some tea, and Beverly texted Andrea that she would be ready to be picked up in thirty minutes.

They didn’t talk much.

– 

Andrea pulled up to the curb, and rolled down a window. “You must be Beverly’s mom. I’m Andrea Uris.”

“Ellie Phillips.”

“How long are you staying in town?”

Ellie looked to her daughter before shrugging. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Well we have a guest suite in our home if you ever get sick of living in a hotel.”

“That’s too kind, but really I couldn’t.”

Andrea nodded but she didn’t push the subject. She turned her attention back on the road ahead so that Beverly might have some privacy while she said goodbye to her mom.

“Promise to give it all some thought?”

Beverly nodded.

“I’ll be here as long as you need me. I’ll see you soon, dear.”

“Bye, Mom.” Beverly said, pulling her mom into a hug.

Ellie Phillips kissed the top of her daughter’s head, holding her with all her might.

Beverly got into the car, but she stared at her mom until they turned the block. The drive was mostly silent, but as they got closer to Derry Andrea peeked at Beverly from the corner of her eye.

“There’s something I would like to talk to you about.” Her matter-of-fact tone sounded so much like Stan’s that it was somehow soothing.

Beverly turned away from the window to better face Andrea. “What is it?”

“Arlene and I have been talking, and while she loves having you as a guest she knows sleeping on her sister’s couch isn’t ideal.”

“I don’t mind,” Beverly said a little too quickly. She blushed.

Andrea smiled. “I know I offered our guest suite to your mom, but you could stay there too – with or without your mom. I know it isn’t the same as living with your boyfriend, but especially as they prepare to move that small apartment will be turned upside down. And I know Stan would love having you.”

Beverly smiled. “Really?”

Andrea nodded. “He was the one to suggest the idea.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Mrs. Uris.”

“Of course, sweetie. You’re more than welcome. We can get it ready for you to move in tomorrow? But if that’s too soon –”

“Tomorrow sounds perfect.” Beverly said, and she meant it.

Her mother may not be thrilled of Beverly’s attachment to her hometown, but it was people like the Urises and Hanscoms that made it so hard to leave. She knew she was lucky that she had found people so capable of love, and she loved them in return.

–

The courtroom shifted as Robert Gray was led to his table. Even in his prison assigned uniform he managed to keep his head up, an unconcerned expression on his face. He was so different than Bowers, he walked as if he were innocent. His expression a careful mask of indifference. Nell had already heard some of the reporters on a smoke break talking about handsome Mr. Gray was. Like so many people they based their opinion of the criminal on their attraction to him. It was sickening.

“Case number oh five dash four one dash seven, the State of Maine v. Robert Gray, multiple counts of child endangerment, multiple counts of illegal gambling, one count of possession of a schedule III substance, and one count of abduction in the second degree.”

“How do you plead?”

“Not guilty.”

The air seemed to crackle with energy.

Judge Alby looked over to where Sadie stood, “State, I’ll hear you.”

“The State is seeking a bail of five-hundred thousand with a five million surety. Mr. Gray has connections across the country, and experience disappearing on short notice. Because of these reasons the State views him as a flight risk. Due to the severity of the abuse we would like to issue a No Contact Order on behalf of the defendant’s former wards: Mr. Kaspbrak, Mr. Hanlon, and both Mr. Denbroughs.”

“Objection, your Honor,” Mr. Gray’s lawyer, Mr. Holburn, rose.

“Counselor?”

“The State seems all too willing to make deals with murderers, kidnappers, and arsonists to put my client away when they should be making a deal with my client to put away these aforementioned criminals. He was just as misled by Mr. Bowers as the State, but he has inside information on the illegal activities which have occurred most recently. And yet the State has offered him no deal. The District Attorney is clearly prejudiced against my client.”

Alby looked over to Sadie.

“Your Honor, while the damage the previous Sheriff Bowers wrecked can not be ignored his crimes did not cross state lines. In fact they only took place within Castle County. The defendant has been known to spend time in California, New York, Nevada, and Illinois within the past five years alone. Given time, the State can produce a pattern of abuse which the defendant has developed and used across these states. It is the State’s belief that should he be released these patterns will continue to effect a larger population. To put it simply, the defendant is a bigger risk than Mr. Bowers has ever been.”

“Your Honor, the District Attorney states that my client –”

“Save it for court, Mr. Holburn. Bail will be set at five-hundred thousand. The court grants the No Contact Order.” Judge Alby said, banging his gavel.

Mr. Gray was led away as a short recess was announced.

Nell caught up with Mr. Tozier and Uris who were getting ready to leave.

“So what did you think?”

“Is he really going to be allowed to walk around Derry?” Donald asked.

“If he can pay the bail.” Nell shrugged. Personally he did not believe that Robert Gray had the funds.

“It was a bit anti-climatic,” admitted Wentworth.

“You’re headed out?”

“There’s not much more to witness.”

Nell nodded. It was mostly small stuff for the rest of the day. “Oh, one of the officers said your boy called and is pressing charges against the older Bowers and Hockstetter boys.”

Wentworth nodded, warmth blooming in his chest as Nell called Bill his boy. “That’s right.”

“Good for him. It won’t be easy. He’ll most likely need to testify, Richie and your son as well,” Nell said turning to Mr. Uris. “They’ll need all the support you can give. It isn’t easy to face down your bullies.”

“Thank you, for all you’ve done,” Wentworth said, shaking Nell’s hand.

“Of course. Look after the children. If I don’t get another chance to see them be sure they know that no matter how hard it gets they did the right thing. Never let them forget of what they are capable when they put their minds and hearts behind a thing.”

“We won’t.”

They said another round of goodbyes and Wentworth and Don left. Nell watched them thoughtfully, and hoped he would be able to see the children again when this was all over and their lives had settled. But who knew where the wind would blow him next? Nell went to call Sullivan and check in with how things were going, desperate to stretch his legs and get away from the dreary solemnity of the courtroom and its proceedings.

Derry was in for a long winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you for your continued support, it means the world to me. This fic would not be where it is without all of you.  
> Until next week.  
> YRS.  
> Weaver


	34. Chapter 34

On Wednesday, Ben and Beverly moved her things over to the Urises. The house was much bigger than Aunt Jean’s apartment, and quieter too. This was not because Andrea or Donald enforced solemnity on their house, but rather that the house was inhabited by three quiet people. Even so, there was no hiding Stan’s excitement when he greeted them at the door.

“Long time no see, Uris.” Beverly said, pulling him into a hug.

“I know. I can’t wait until we can all hang out again. I miss all of us being together.” Stan gave her a tight squeeze before letting go.

“Me too.”

“Hi, Stan.”

“Hey, Ben. Sorry to be stealing away your girlfriend.”

“She deserves better than a living room couch.”

“Here, let me get your bag.” Stan reached for one of the bags in Beverly’s arm.

“Thanks, Stan. I really appreciate your parents letting me stay here.”

“Of course. Mom was dying to do something, and I realized with everything going on with Ben’s move it might be easier to have you stay here. Has your mom put in an offer yet?” Stan addressed the question to Ben as he began leading them through the house.

“Not yet. She wants to soon though. I think she still has to go to the bank and get approved for a loan,” Ben said. “She can’t even begin the adoption paperwork until she owns the house.”

“Is she stressed about it?” Stan asked.

“I think so, but she won’t show it. She’s so happy, and she wants to make sure that Eddie isn’t worried about things falling through.”

Stan hummed.

They had reached the attic now, and Stan opened the door. The entire floor had been finished a couple years ago, turning it into a guest suite for when Andrea’s sister and her family came for Rosh Hashanah. The majority of the space was devoted to a queen sized bed and wardrobe, but there was also a pullout couch by the stairs with a little screen for privacy. A full bathroom had been added as well.

The entire space was light an airy. Stan watched as Ben’s eyes traced the exposed woodwork with interest.

“Stan, it’s marvelous,” Beverly said, looking at the skylights and large windows.

She went to the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto the small porch.

“I’m glad you like it so much. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Beverly’s smile drooped a little.

“What’s wrong?”

She turned around and leaned on the railing.

“My mom wants me to move back to London.”

Stan looked to Ben who showed no signs of shock, she must have told him already – no surprise there. “Do the others know?”

Beverly shook her head.

“When does she want you to go back?”

She shrugged. “She didn’t say exactly when, but I don’t think she wants to stick around here.”

“Oh.”

Beverly forced a smile, “Hey, stop that. You look like a little old man when you furrow your brow like that.”

“I can’t help it. Do you want to go?”

Beverly looked away, back at the treeline.

“I’m going to get the rest of your stuff from downstairs,” Ben said. He left them alone.

“Beverly?”

She still wouldn’t meet his gaze.

He walked out onto the little porch with her, the wind whipped at his curls but he paid no mind. Gently he reached for her, pulling her into a hug. He just held her and let her cry softly into his shoulder.

“I don’t want to go.”

Her words were so soft he had to strain to hear them. His arms tightened around her. “We’ll figure it out.”

“What if we can’t?” She pulled back, looking directly in his eyes. “This isn’t like Arlene moving to the Rock for Eddie. Castle Rock isn’t that big an inconvenience compared to moving back to Derry from London. My mom has her entire life there.”

“What about Mr. Halloran moving here for Mike? He probably had a life in Florida.”

“It’s different.”

“Why?” Stan asked, his stubborn old-man frown reappearing.

“I don’t know, Stan, because it is. Mr. Halloran doesn’t have the same traumatic relationship with this place as my mother.”

Stan remained silent.

Ben came up with another load of Beverly’s things. “She told you everything, huh?”

Stan nodded. “So the others don’t know?”

“Not yet. There’s so much going on, I don’t want to add to the drama.”

“They might have some ideas –?”

“I don’t want ideas. I’m sure Richie would come up with a half dozen bad ones, and Bill and Mike might find one that’s decent but I just want to accept it and move on. That’s why you’re the only two that know. I thought you’d understand best.”

“Okay,” said Stan. But he didn’t mean it. In all his time in knowing Bev she had never been one to lay down without a fight.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course, Bev.”

He would keep her secret, because that’s what friends did, but that wouldn’t prevent him from working on a solution in his own time.

–

Across town in a small rented clapboard house, Mike was going through some paperwork with Uncle Dick in the small study when Wendy knocked on the door frame.

“How are you guys doing?”

Uncle Dick rubbed his eyes. “Alright. I’m afraid I’ve left this paperwork a bit of a mess, I guess I never expected to be returning to the property as a real owner.”

Wendy laughed. “Looks like you could use a second cup of coffee.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Uncle Dick said, standing and stretching out like an old tom-cat.

“There’s a fresh pot in the kitchen. I wanted to have a word with Mike, if you don’t mind?”

Uncle Dick looked at her curiously, but went off to the kitchen.

“What’s up?” Mike asked.

“The little boy that was here yesterday, was he the one you were kept with?”

“Yeah, Georgie. His older brother Bill is currently in the hospital, so right now he’s kinda on his own.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. This is going to sound a bit strange, but did they live in Brooklyn before –?” Wendy gestured, unable to bring herself to say any more.

“Yeah, how did you know that?”

“Danny used to know a Georgie Denbrough with an older brother Bill.”

“Really?”

Wendy nodded. 

“Oh my god. Did Danny recognize Georgie?”

“It’s hard to say, but I don’t think so. It was a long time ago for him.”

Mike nodded.

“Still I think it would be good for them to get to know each other.”

“You should call Mrs. Tozier. That’s where they’re staying for the time being.”

Uncle Dick returned with two mugs of coffee. Sensing the shifted energy he asked, “what’s going on in here?”

“Just talking through some things. I think I’ll go give the Toziers’ a call. Their home number is in the directory?”

“Probably,” Uncle Dick said with a shrug as he and Mike settled back into their work.

Mike watched Wendy go. She might just be the link to the Denbroughs past that they had been searching for, for so long. He marveled at how small the universe was to bring her here because of Dick Halloran, and once again he marveled at how things were finally beginning to shift in their favor.

“Your school called today,” Uncle Dick said.

“Oh?”

“They want you back starting next week. I told them that was a ridiculous expectation, but it seems that they are asking you all to come back then. It appears their sympathy will only go so far.” His tone was a mix of genuine frustration and dry humor.

“No, that’s okay. It will be good to get back into a routine.”

Uncle Dick raised a bushy brow at his godson. “Are you sure? Because I’m more than happy to tell them to shove it where the sun don’t shine, I’m sure Maggie Tozier already has it in mind to do so.”

“No that’s okay. I don’t want to get too far behind.”

“A ridiculous standard –”

“I mean it. I’m tired of being treated like I’m about to break. I’ve been put through tougher fights than this.” Immediately Mike felt guilty for saying such a thing. He was about to backtrack when he saw Uncle Dick’s expression. It was one of profound sweetness and sorrow.

The older man reached out and patted Mike on the shoulder, a gesture which told him that apologies weren’t necessary. “Okay. I’ll call them back and tell you to expect you Monday.”

Mike smiled at his godfather as they set back to work in going through the financial statements of the old farm.

–

Maggie Tozier was in the kitchen looking over some paperwork while Richie and Eddie baked cookies with Georgie when she got Wendy’s phone call.

She moved into another room to take it. 

“Hello, this is Maggie Tozier speaking.”

“Hi, Maggie we don’t know one another. I’m Wendy Torrence, a friend of Dick Halloran’s?”

“Oh yes, of course. What can I do for you?”

“Well Mike told me you’re taking care of the Denbroughs, and I just wanted to tell you that I knew their parents in Brooklyn. My son was friends with Georgie before the accident.”

“Accident?”

“The one that killed Sharon and Zach. You mean you didn’t know?”

Maggie was speechless for a moment. “I – I hadn’t had the chance to ask Bill how he came to be living with Mr. Gray. There was never a good moment.”

“Of course.”

Maggie sat down in her office chair. “What did happen?”

“It was terrible. Danny was having a sleepover with some friends, but Georgie was having nightmares. He asked me to call his mom to come get him. Of course both his parents came to get him, he was only six then, but it had been raining so the roads were slick. A drunk driver plowed into them headfirst. They didn’t make it to the hospital.”

“Oh my god, that’s awful.”

“They had no family so they were placed into the system. They were adopted and moved away shortly after. I never heard from them again. I didn’t think I’d see them again, but yesterday Georgie was over here and it was like going back in time. Maggie, I’d really like for Georgie and Danny to be friends again. Danny hasn’t always been able to communicate with boys his age, but he and Georgie were always close.”

Maggie wasn’t sure if this link to their past would be beneficial to Bill and Georgie, so she made a mental note to ask Dr. Devlin the next time she heard from him. However, for the time being she saw no harm in it. “That sounds wonderful, Wendy. I’ll run it all by Georgie, of course. But I think it would be nice for him to have a friend his own age. He’s apparently been bullied quite a bit at the middle school and Went and I are considering home schooling him for the rest of the year.”

“Really? I’m sorry to hear about the bullying. Please let me know if you need any resources for the homeschooling. I homeschool Danny and have found some great websites over the years.”

“Thank you, Wendy. I’ll keep that in mind. And thank you for telling me about Bill and Georgie’s parents. Someday I would like to hear more about them.”

Wendy promised to fill Maggie in at a later date, and the phone call ended shortly after.

Maggie returned to the kitchen, sitting back at the breakfast bar and watched the trio work. It had already been decided that a third of the cookies would be for Beverly, as she had just moved in to the Urises’, a third was for Mike and his family, and the last third would be here for Bill when he came home from surgery on Friday. It was funny. The cookies had been Georgie’s idea, somehow he had gotten the idea across to Richie and Eddie without words. All nods and gestures. It was like a language all his own, and as fascinating as it was Maggie wished that he would feel safe enough to speak. She knew it wasn’t her fault or a lack of action on the Toziers’ part. Georgie had suffered some deep trauma in the attic, things which were going to take time to be worked through, but still Maggie felt a profound sense that she wasn’t doing enough.

She watched as Richie purposefully spilled flour on Eddie to get a rise out of him, the shorter boy chastising Richie a mile a minute. They were cute. Even Georgie seemed amused. Despite the need to finish her paperwork it was hard to return to it with the scene before her.

– 

After the cookies were done, Eddie and Richie walked them over to Stan’s. They had offered to take Georgie, but Richie’s mom had suggested she take him to see Bill so that the older kids could have some time to catch up. Secretly, Richie was grateful to his mom. He loved hanging out with Georgie, but he had also missed being alone with Eddie.

They walked through the residential streets of Derry, quiet as everyone was still in school, and Richie couldn’t help but think of the first solo walk they had taken at night. It would appear Eddie was thinking about that night too.

“This is like our first date,” Eddie said serenely. 

Richie looked over at Eddie, their fingers brushing as they walked. “That barely counts as a date.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Any peace in Eddie’s tone vanished instantly.

“I just mean walking around Derry in the middle of the night hardly counts as first date material.”

“Shut up. I liked it.” Eddie’s bottom lip pushed out, and Richie was tempted to ask for a kiss. To be honest he wasn’t sure which way it would go. Instead he said:

“Well now that you’re no longer living in that creepy house, I think we can do much better. I want to take you out on a real date, Eds. Somewhere nice.”

“Don’t call me, Eds… and I’d like that, Rich. But it’s not a replacement to that walk, it’s a second date. Got it?”

“You’re really attached to that walk.”

“How many guys can say their first date ever was a midnight walk where they had to sneak out of their room just to go on it?”

Richie thought a lot of people could probably say that – especially those who lived in small towns without a lot going on – but he wasn’t about to burst Eddie’s bubble. He was just too cute. 

“Richie?” Eddie sounded shy all of a sudden.

“What’s up, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“Ugh. I hate it when you call me that. Why can you never call me by my actual name –”

“Is that really what you wanted to ask me?” Richie teased.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “No. You’re insufferable.”

“I’m insufferable?”

“Yes. Now what I wanted to ask was… well I was wondering if you’d tell me about another one of Shakespeare’s comedies. Maybe?”

Richie smiled. “You want to hear about more Shakespeare comedies?”

Eddie nodded.

“This isn’t for an English class, is it?”

“Stop stalling.”

Richie laughed warmly. “How about _Taming of the Shrew_? I think you’d like that one.”

“Why?”

“Well, Eds, you’re pretty shrewish.”

“Am NOT!”

Richie grabbed Eddie’s hand and began to swing it between them. “Oh sure you are. A perfect Katharine, but don’t worry that means I’m your Petruchio.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I think I’m regretting asking already.”

“Oh hush. They’re the perfect stand in for our relationship, depending on what interpretation you go with.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a lot of debate about this play as it deals with the roles each gender fulfilled in a relationship during Elizabethan England. Although some argue it to be severely problematic and old fashioned, others view it as completely empowering to women and ahead of it’s time.”

“And you think that suits us how exactly?”

Richie shrugged. “The banter, mostly.”

“I think I’d rather be Beatrice and Benedick,” Eddie muttered.

The fact that Eddie remembered their discussion _Much Ado_ made Richie want to swoon. “Babe, they’re basic. Everyone wants their relationship. Now do you want me to tell you about Petruchio and Kate before we get to Stan’s or not?”

“Alright, tell me about the controversial old play.”

Richie smiled. “That’s more like it,” he said before launching into a lengthy explanation of the plot. It seemed to be about a guy trying to woo an unmarriable woman, and when they did marry they only managed to make themselves miserable. Or at least that’s what Eddie got from it, his thoughts were a little distracted. He was staring at Richie’s lips. 

Eddie wanted to kiss those lips. There was never something of which he was so sure. He wanted to give Richie everything. He suspected Richie wanted the same, but he also felt as if the boy was holding back. He’d rather tease and joke than be serious. Eddie knew that was his nature, but this felt like something deeper. Living in Richie’s house had brought them closer together, and yet their relationship had barely progressed.

“– so probably Kate’s defining moment is at the end where she and Petruchio get this sort of fuck you moment to everyone who ever doubted them. Basically all these men try calling for their wives and none of them come, except Kate. It shows how she’s the one that changed, and that their relationship is elevated beyond the others. Dad says a lot of scholars argue that this is detrimental to Kate as a character, that she has finally submitted to her husband. But he thinks that she and Petruchio actually played the system, and that they are tricking the rest of them, and it is she that has gained her freedom in their marriage.”

“Why haven’t you kissed me?” The words were out of Eddie’s lips before Richie had finished talking. He hadn’t even realized that he had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“What?” Richie, a couple steps ahead, stopped and turned to face him.

Eddie dropped Richie’s hand. “Forget I asked.”

“No, this is important. I was just surprised is all.” Richie took a moment to gather his thoughts before stepping closer to Eddie. “There’s a lot going on in your life right now. Your former godfather is going to trial for what he did, you’re going to be adopted soon and move out to Castle Rock, any one of those things would be a lot on its own. However, you’re dealing with all of it at once. I just don’t want to add a relationship into the mix. It’s not that I don’t want it, but I want to be sure that we’re both in the right head space to handle it. I want us to have the best chance to last. I’m sorry if I’ve been too touchy and I’ve misled you –”

Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand. “You haven’t.”

“I feel like I have. The forehead kisses, and cuddling, it’s just natural for me. Touch has always been my love language. My whole family is kinda that way. But I don’t want to rush intimacy, the stuff that really matters, I want to take my time with it and do it right. You deserve the best, Eds. I mean it. A real love story, not just the _Romeo and Juliet_ bullshit, but something that lasts.”

“I like the _Romeo and Juliet_ bullshit, and while their romance might have been short lived, people have been obsessed with their story for hundreds of years.”

Richie smiled. “I like you, Eddie. I like you so much.”

“I like you too, Richie.”

It felt a little silly, these confessions, after all they had said and done for one another, but it was still nice to hear. For it to be real.

“And you’re really okay taking it slow?” Richie asked, his eyes searching Eddie’s.

Eddie nodded.

“Okay, good. Now we better shake our tail feathers. I told Stan we’d be there fifteen minutes ago, and knowing him if we don’t show up soon he’ll think we were kidnapped. Too soon?”

“Definitely.”

“Sorry,” Richie said with a laugh.

Eddie couldn’t stay mad at him.

When they arrived at Stan’s, Stan led them to the third story where Bev was staying.

“Sorry for running late. Didn’t want you to think we’d been abducted,” Richie said.

Eddie elbowed him. “Beep beep.”

“If anything I would have figured you’d just made a detour to make out.” Stan said.

Surprisingly it was Richie who blushed deeply. “Stan.”

He sounded almost scandalized.

Stan cocked his head innocently, “what?”

“Just because you and Big Bill are open to PDA –”

“Who’s saying that?”

“– doesn’t mean me and Eds have to be the same.”

“Um it would be Eddie and I,” Stan cut in.

“Stan’s right, both about the grammar and my fucking name, Richard.” Eddie said.

Richie raised his hands in surrender. While he stood pretty good chances against his best friend and his crush, when they decided to team up against him he lost any little advantage he might have had.

By this time they had reached the third floor, and found Ben and Beverly unpacking the last of her things.

“Eds!” Ben shouted cheerfully as a greeting.

“Hey, Ben.” Eddie smiled.

“What so he’s allowed to call you Eds?” Richie asked in faux disgust.

“Maybe I just like him more than you.”

“Impossible.”

Ben laughed. “Bros before hoes, sorry, Richie.”

Richie scoffed. “Would you allow Eddie Spaghetti –”

“Still not my name.”

“– to say that about Beverly?”

Ben looked at his girlfriend and shrugged. “Honestly, if she’s okay with it then so am I.”

Beverly smiled, “I’m okay with it, only because you’re all my hoes.”

“So you have no bros to put before us?” Richie asked.

“Maybe Stan,” Beverly said.

Stan high-fived her.

“Ouch,” Richie said. “We’ve been friends for the same length of time.”

“Sounds like you’re the only sensitive one, Rich,” Stan said.

Richie pouted and mumbled something about it not being fair.

His friends burst out laughing.

“It’s good to have you two here. Just missing Bill and Mike,” Beverly said.

A moment of silence descended on the friends. Bill’s surgery was tomorrow and although it was a minor non-invasive surgery they couldn’t help but worry. It seemed that these days Bill spent more time in the hospital than out of it, and their group hadn’t felt complete because of it. Already it was like they were all on their own paths, heading in different directions from one another. It was a terrifying thought that struck each of them differently. However, the conclusions were all the same. They were growing up.

Stan shot a look to Beverly, wondering if perhaps now would be the right time to tell them. As if she read his mind, she shook her head minutely. He ducked his head. Stan wondered if Beverly even knew what the right time would look like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in time for Valentine's Day, some Reddie fluff. I know I've made y'all wait for it.  
> Thank you for all your continued support on this story. It means the absolute world to me. We're coming up on 1 year since I began writing for this fandom and honestly it's the only constant I've had through quarantine, which means more than I can say here. I would not be where I am today without all of you, so thank you from the bottom of my heart. And I hope that I've been able to brighten this past year for you in some way or another.  
> Please leave a comment below letting me know your thoughts, and keep your eye out for my VDAY oneshot coming soon.  
> All my love,  
> Weaver


	35. Chapter 35

The following day, Beverly had plans to meet up with Audra and show her around. Luckily the weather decided to cooperate. Beverly couldn’t have dreamed up a better day. The air had a cool crispness to it, and there was not a cloud in the sky.

Standing at the bus stop across from the Aladdin was Audra. She looked out of place in Derry with her tight plaid skirt and platform boots. Beverly knew people were staring, but Audra didn’t seem to mind. It was like she was used to being at the center of attention, and in she seemed to glow in it. However, Beverly was loathe to keep her waiting, so she hurried to cross the street.

Audra’s expression brightened when she saw her. Before, Beverly hadn’t sensed a trace of Audra looking unsure, but there it was only defined by the sense of relief with her arrival. 

“Hi, Bev! I hope you don’t mind me calling you Bev. Ben said that’s your preferred nickname?”

“Of course, that’s fine.”

“Here, these are for you.” Audra passed a box of fancy bonbons to Beverly.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

Audra shrugged like it was no biggie, but both girls knew how weird this was.

“So Derry isn’t as interesting as London, but I have a few things planned if you want,” Beverly said as she carefully tucked the chocolates into her bag.

Audra linked arms with Beverly, “of course I want! Show me your hometown.”

“Well it’s too cold to go out to the quarry, but I thought maybe we could hang around city center, maybe window shop if you’d like, before meeting the others at Bassey Park.”

“That sounds perfect!”

“Great. I don’t suppose we could stop somewhere for some drinks. I’m rather parched.”

Beverly nodded. “Closest is probably Keene’s Pharmacy. It’s just down the road.”

“Lead the way.”

Beverly and Audra walked down the street towards Keene’s Pharmacy arm in arm. Everyone who saw them thought they were sisters first, before wondering why they weren’t in school. Beverly asked Audra about how she found the bus ride, and what their mothers were up to for the day.

“They’re working on getting a rental car. Of course they aren’t sure for how long,” Audra said, glancing away shyly.

Beverly felt guilty. It was because she hadn’t been able to give her mother a definitive answer on leaving. Every time she thought about moving to London she couldn’t help but freeze. It would be so different. She would know no one. She’d be alone.

“But they don’t seem too worried,” Audra said after a pause. “How did the move go?”

Beverly smiled. “Really well. Ben and Stan were super helpful, and then later Eddie and Richie came over with cookies.”

“You’re lucky to have such good friends.”

“I know.” She felt guilty for not letting them in on her secret, but she knew it was for the best. “Hey, I have a question for you if you don’t mind me asking.”

Audra tilted her head curiously, and Beverly took that as an invitation to continue.

“Well Phillips is my mom’s maiden name, but you and Aunt Mira use it too?”

Audra nodded. “My mom never wanted to take my dad’s name, she said it was for business purposes. She had already made a name for herself in the fashion market when they met and she wanted to maintain brand recognition. Their marriage didn’t last long, they were in the process of divorce when my mom found out she was pregnant with me so I got her last name instead of his.”

“And your dad was okay with that?”

Audra laughed a little sharply. “He’s not really in my life.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ve met him a few times and he’s not exactly the paternal type.”

Silence fell between them, but lucky they had arrived at the pharmacy. Beverly opened the door for Audra, the bell rang signaling their entrance.

An assistant looked up from the counter and nodded in the form of greeting. 

Beverly smiled. She didn’t recognize the young man, but he seemed friendly. She led Audra over to the coolers.

“Do you think we should get some snacks for your friends?” Audra asked, eyeing the other shelves filled with bright cellophane-wrapped snacks with interest.

“It’d be a lot to carry, besides I think Stan said he would be able to bring some food. You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

“Nope! And Stan? The one you’re living with right now?”

Beverly nodded.

Audra selected some drinks for them and Beverly went with her to the counter to pay.

“Find everything okay?” The assistant asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Audra said with a smile.

“That’ll be $5.49.”

Beverly paid for their drinks.

“Have a nice day, ladies.”

“Thanks again.”

Once they were outside, Beverly began walking back down Center Street to the intersection of Up Mile Hill. That was where the most interesting shops were anyway.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Audra asked.

“Shoot.”

“How do you have so many guy friends?”

Whatever Beverly thought Audra would ask her this was not it. “What?”

“Well when you were talking about your move all the names you listed were male. I was just curious how you got so many guy friends. Were they Ben’s first?”

Beverly snorted. “No. Richie, Stan and I have been friends since they joined my class in third grade. Ben didn’t even move here until fifth grade. The others all came the start of this school year.”

“So how did you become friends with Stan and Richie initially?”

“We were all sort of loners. I mean Stan and Richie had each other, but they were kind of shunned by the other kids in our class due to being held back. It wasn’t a big school. There were probably 18 people between the two third grade classes, and nothing could be covered up. So they were on their own and so was I. One day some of the other kids were teasing Stan, and Richie looked pissed. Only he couldn’t do anything because he already had a yellow card from the teacher, and if he got another red card that week he’d have to go see the principal. So I stepped up and told the bullies to get lost. It didn’t do much, they didn’t listen to me of course, but Stan and Richie welcomed me in after that. So when Ben was the new kid it was just sort of natural that we would welcome him into our trio. I guess you could say we’ve been looking out for each other, and other lost souls ever since.”

“That’s crazy.”

“I take it you don’t have many guy friends?”

Audra shook her head. “None. Anytime a guy wants to get close to me it’s always because he wants to be more than friends. They always seem so nice until I reject them. I’ve learned to just stay away from them. None of them have asked you out?”

“Only Ben.” Beverly said with a dry smile.

“How long have you two been together?”

“Not too long, we actually got together halfway through sophomore year. But if you ask Rich or Stan they’d tell you that we’d both been pining for a lot longer than that,” Beverly blushed.

“Aw that’s so cute.”

They had long since turned the corner and were now headed down Up Mile Hill. Beverly took the time to point out some of the landmarks such as the Stand Pipe in the distance and the Public Library. They crossed the road and headed toward Second Hand Rose, one of Beverly’s favorite shops.

“Ah it’s so quaint!” Audra said without a trace of judgment.

Beverly found her enthusiasm refreshing.

In the window was an old porcelain tea set along with a vintage Royal typewriter, a collection of Mary Shelley poems, and an assortment of other odds and ends.

“We can go in if you’d like.”

Audra nodded.

The little shop immediately felt too warm compared to the cold October air. The antiquated bell and smell of dust instantly sent them back. The proprietor didn’t look up from the book he was reading as they began to browse.

Audra was instantly drawn to jewelry counter which housed plenty of delicate trinkets beside just jewelry. Sitting among the trays of tarnishing silver and faded gemstones were little antiquities of surprising value. She studied these small figurines, most of them fragile, with great interest. 

Beverly watched her before moving off to explore the racks of used clothes. She had yet to get the rest of her things from her father’s house. Andrea and Sadie were working together to coordinate with CPS a time where she would be able to enter the residence without her father being there, but she knew it wasn’t a top priority. Her hand pushed hangers aside, barely sparing a glance at the clothes on them, the scratch of the metal hook across the pipe was the only sound that filled the store.

“Oh my god,” Audra said from behind her.

Beverly turned, but didn’t see to what her cousin was referring.

Audra stepped beside Beverly and pulled out a dress that she had just pushed past. It was made of bright turquoise satin. It had a scalloped neckline, shoulder pads, and a huge bow at the back. It was clearly a prom dress from the 80s.

“You have to try this on,” Audra said.

Beverly let out a loud laugh, instinctively she looked over her shoulder to see if the proprietor had noticed but his nose was still buried in his book. Quieter she said, “no way.”

“Oh come on, please. It’s your color.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“If you try it on I’ll let you pick out something for me. Come on, Bev. Please?”

“Fine.” Beverly said.

Audra clapped her hands together like a child in a film, and Beverly wondered who this girl was. She searched the racks until she found an equally ugly dress, very mother-of-the-bride, beaded shapeless top with shoulder pads and a high neckline, a straight skirt in the same color.

Audra giggled when Beverly passed it to her. “Low blow, Marsh.”

“What? I think lavender suits you.”

They went to the dressing rooms to try on their finds.

Beverly pulled the dress on and was surprised to find how good it looked on her. The scalloped neckline emphasized her bone structure, and the bodice clung to all the right places. Even the rouched, bubbly skirt held a certain appeal. Was she actually considering buying this monstrosity?

“Come out! I want to see,” Audra called from the other side of the curtain.

Beverly pushed it aside and she watched as Audra’s jaw dropped.

“No way. Like oh my god. It looks amazing on you, Bev.”

“Shut up,” Beverly said, unused to the experience of going clothes shopping with anyone.

“You need this in your wardrobe. I know it’s dated, but I bet you could take the shoulder pads out. And even if you can’t the 80s are making their comeback. You have to get it.”

“Audra, that’s insane.”

“So what?”

“What would I even wear this to?”

“A costume ball? Halloween? Who cares. It fits you so well, it’s like a sign.”

“I can’t –”

“Fine then I’m buying it for you.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Shut up. With all your guy friends it’s obvious you’ve never gotten to go spree shopping. Let me buy this for you.”

Beverly flushed, embarrassed by Audra’s blunt, but correct, assessment.

Audra’s excitement vanished. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just really think you should buy this dress.”

“Okay, fine. You’ve convinced me, but I can pay for it myself.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply…”

Things felt tense. Beverly didn’t want to have her cousin set off so early in their day together so she hastened to relieve the tension. “And what about your dress? Any chance you’re going to buy it?”

Audra snorted. “As if. I look ancient.”

“Can you believe anyone ever wore that and thought it was a good idea?”

“Sounds like something Aunt Ellie would say.”

Beverly jolted as if she had been struck. “Really?”

Audra’s smile softened around the edges. “Well yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s get changed. These beads are itchy.”

Beverly nodded, grateful for the change in conversation. She pulled the curtain across the door and began changing. She checked the price tag and was relieved to see the dress was only $10. Once she had changed she rejoined Audra who said something about wanting to get the volumes of poetry that were in the window.

Together they approached the counter. As if sensing their arrival, the proprietor set his book down.

“Can I help you?” He asked, and Beverly was suddenly aware how thick his Maine accent must sound to Audra. She wondered if hers was just as bad.

“Yeah, I am interested in buying the volumes of Mary Shelley poetry. How much are they?”

“$28 for the set.”

“Sounds great.”

“I’ll get it.”

The older man rose and came around the counter. As he walked to the front of the door store, the door opened and in stepped Mr. Epping. He nodded to the girls before stepping aside to talk to the Second Hand Rose’s proprietor.

“Does that typewriter work?”

“Aren’t you George Amberson the writer?”

Epping looked flustered. “Yeah that’s me. That typewriter it used to be mine.”

“Well it’s mine now. But you’re the big author, you want it you can afford it.”

“Alright, how much?”

“$300. You can afford it. I’ll get it.”

The girls watched as the proprietor picked up the volumes of poetry and the typewriter, bringing both back to the counter. Epping followed him reluctantly.

“Hello, Ms Marsh.”

“Hi, Mr. Epping. This is my cousin Audra.”

“Hello!”

“Nice to meet you.”

The proprietor rang up Audra’s purchase first, before moving onto Beverly’s. As he did so Epping peered at the book on the counter. It was a worn copy of _JimLa_.

“You want me to sign it for you?” He asked.

The proprietor looked up from Beverly’s purchase, peering at him over his glasses. “Nah I didn’t like the ending.”

Beverly shot a glance to Epping, but found him chuckling to himself. Clearly he was amused by the older man’s response, but the reason was lost on her.

When she had paid she thanked the proprietor before saying goodbye to Epping. Then Audra and Beverly stepped out into the sunlight. They had spent longer in the shop than she had expected, and they were due to the meet the others soon.

–

In the park, the boys were already seated at one of the benches between the bandstand and the Paul Bunyan statue. From her peripheral, Beverly could see Audra taking in the scene with interest. Although she wasn’t sure what interested her more, the 31 foot tall statue or the five teenage boys and one middle-schooler.

Beverly found her pace picking up as she was anxious for her two worlds to meet properly.

“Hey guys!” Her voice rung out through the park.

“Hiya Bev! This must be your gorgeous cousin,” Richie said with a wink.

“Ugh.” Eddie said.

“Down, Rich. Besides you’re taken.” Stan said.

Richie and Eddie both flushed at that, and looked away from one another.

“Audra, these are my friends. Stan, Mike, Richie, Eddie, and Georgie.”

“Hi guys,” Audra said, a bright blush on her cheeks.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Richie said in a British accent. He leapt up and bowed before Audra.

She laughed. “Shame about you being taken.”

“Isn’t it?”

Eddie kicked at the back of his shin. “I swear to God, Richie. We haven’t been on a second date yet and already I want to dump your ass.”

He tensed, suddenly looking to Audra wondering if he had said too much, but she just smiled. “You two are boyfriends? That’s literally so cute.”

Everyone let go of a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

“It’s new,” Richie said, with the smile he reserved for all things Eddie.

“Get a room,” Stan said.

“If Bill were here you’d be just as bad, so I don’t want to hear it, Uris.”

“Jeez, today was supposed to be about meeting Audra and supporting Bev. Can we go one day without making it about your love lives?” Ben asked.

“Sorry, Ben. You’re right. It’s nice to meet you, Audra. What’s it like in London?” Stan asked.

“Busy. Louder, brighter, messier. It’s wonderful,” Audra said with a laugh.

Stan looked to Beverly, but she was carefully ignoring him. “That sounds nice.”

“You live with your mom, right?” Mike asked.

Audra nodded.

“That sounds nice.”

“It is. And it’s nice that Beverly’s mom, my Aunt Ellie, is so close too. Family is really important to us.” Audra glanced at Beverly.

“I brought snacks,” Stan said too quickly.

“Way to ruin the moment, dude,” Richie said.

But Beverly knew why he had done it. He was trying to take the spotlight off the inevitable question of where she would be living. She shot him a grateful look.

“No it’s okay. I’m actually a bit peckish. What did you bring?” Beverly asked.

Stan began unpacking his backpack. As he did so, Richie reached into his own bag.

“That reminds me, Mikey, we made you cookies,” Richie said, passing a baggie of chocolate chip cookies to the other teen.

“Thanks, Richie.”

“Of course.”

“Stop taking credit, it was Georgie’s idea and you know it,” Eddie retorted.

Mike turned to Georgie and winked at him. “Much appreciated, my guy.”

Georgie beamed up at Mike.

They spent the rest of the afternoon telling Audra about Beverly’s greatest hits, like the time she had saved a bunch of kittens from drowning in the Kenduskeag or the time she’d dove head-first off the quarry into the lake. Richie told a few embarrassing stories which involved Stan, Beverly, and Ben but no one minded too much. They avoided talking about the trials and living situations and for the afternoon they felt like normal teenagers – cutting class to hang out. And while they knew Audra would never be one of them, the way Mike, Eddie, and Bill had become one of them, they did her best to make her feel welcome. By the end of the afternoon it was like they had known each other for years instead of hours.

Beverly was relieved that they had all taken so naturally to one another, and this blending of her worlds made her wonder how she would ever separate them.

They said goodbye to the boys, as Audra’s bus to Bangor was due soon, and the two girls began walking back towards the bus stop. They were quiet for a moment, enjoying the fading sunlight – how it painted the buildings in its amber light, when suddenly Audra broke the silence.

“I can see why you don’t want to come back with us. What you have here… it’s special.”

“And you’re not going to try and convince me that I can find something special in London?”

“Honestly? No. Look I love my friends, but we’re not family. Not the same way you are with your friends. You’ve been through something together, you’re bonded in a way that not everyone is. A selfish part of me does want you to move because I’d love having you live just down the road from us. But I’m not going to try and change your mind. They need you too, Bev. I think a lot more than any of them are able to say.”

“What about mom?”

“I’m not sure. I know Aunt Ellie has been picturing you coming to her London townhouse for the longest time, but maybe if she sees this place through your eyes you can work out a way to stay. I think if anyone can it would be the girl who stood up to some third grade bullies.”

“Thanks, Audra. I mean it.”

“Of course. Would it be okay if I come hang out with you all again soon? I like your friends. They’re funny. Different.”

“Yeah. That sounds great. Although we’ll be in school again next week, so it’ll have to be a weekend.”

“Sounds good. Other than exploring Bangor there’s not much going on.” Audra’s bus pulled up. “That’s me.”

“Enjoy the Shelley.”

“Oh I will. Look after yourself, Bev. I’ll see you soon.”

Beverly watched Audra climb into the bus and she thought about what she had said. There was no saying what her future would bring, but Beverly wasn’t going to let it passively pass her by. She was done not having a say in her own life. She knew that now. And it was time she asked her friends for help. She didn’t have to do this alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support, I appreciate it sm. I hope you enjoyed the Chapter 2 reference lmao, I couldn't help myself. Also we love some female bonding. (There's not enough of it in the canon or fandom, but you didn't hear it from me...)  
> Please let me know what you thought in the comments below! Next chapter will be out next week!!  
> YRS.  
> Weaver


	36. Chapter 36

In the weeks that followed, life began to settle down for the Losers. Bill returned from the hospital and moved into the guest room with Georgie, Eddie remaining in Richie’s room for the time being. The doctors had been able to repair Bill’s eardrum, and his hearing had returned – although he would always be a little hard of hearing on his left side and the tinnitus would never truly go away.

While Maggie hadn’t been able to get the others out of school, she had convinced Principal Johns to give Bill the week to readjust into non-hospital living. Wentworth returned to teaching, so for the time being the only ones occupying the house were Maggie and the Denbroughs. It was quiet without the others, but Maggie could see how important a time it was in the healing process for both Georgie and Bill. In some ways it reminded her of when she had first brought Richie home from the hospital after he was born. There was that same tender maternal instinct and pride, combined with the fear of screwing it all up. Maggie wouldn’t have traded those days for the world – then or now.

Thanksgiving came and went, and it was a year of firsts. The Toziers hosted, as they had the biggest house, and even then they barely had enough room to fit everyone. Wentworth spent all morning cooking the turkey, Georgie watching curiously, while Eddie and Richie made the cranberry sauce. Bill helped Maggie with the stuffing. The Uris-Marsh contingent brought mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes baked with walnuts and brown sugar. According to Don, Andrea and Stan had been in the kitchen all of last night and most of this morning and had refused any help offered from both Beverly and himself. Andrea flushed at that, swatting her husband’s arm playfully. The Hanscoms brought a salad with homemade crutons, and a huge pumpkin pie. The Hanlon-Halloran-Torrence family came with an apple pie as well as breads, cheeses, and other appetizers. It was a feast to behold.

The adults sat at the dining room table – the leaves pulled out in order to make room for everyone – drinking red wine and marveling at how their families had seemed to grow over night. In the kitchen set up around the breakfast bar sat the Losers plus Georgie and Danny. And even without the liquor, their spirits were buoyed high. It was the first proper holiday some of them had celebrated in a very long time. Under the table, Bill and Stan held hands, grateful to have found one another despite the odds. Richie’s voice carried through both rooms, telling jokes that made Eddie blush, but the others just laughed.

The only dark spot was Ellie, and the other Phillips’ absence. But Ellie had said she wasn’t ready to face Derry quite yet. And while Audra had wanted to come, her mother said now wasn’t the time. Beverly wouldn’t allow herself to dwell, instead she focused all her love to these moments with her friends because she didn’t know if they would be the last ones. She still hadn’t told them about her move. She just hadn’t found the right moment. Or at least that’s what she told herself. Another voice, deeper within, told her she was just scared. Scared that they had run out luck, that no matter how badly she longed to stay she would still have to leave. So instead she laughed at Richie’s jokes, wrapped her arm around Ben, and ignored the little voice with all her might.

– 

It was around this time that the Toziers scheduled Georgie’s first appointment with Dr. Henry Devlin, leading child psychologist. One early gray December morning, about a week after Thanksgiving, Maggie drove Bill and Georgie to Dr. Devlin’s office. In the car ride, Bill sat in the back seat with his brother. It was clear that both boys were nervous, but Bill was doing his best at making things seem normal. He talked to Georgie about how his latest meeting with Epping went. They had begun meeting after school on Fridays to discuss writing. Currently, Mr. Epping was helping him clean up a submission for a local short story contest being hosted by the Bangor Daily News.

Maggie listened to Bill, and found herself calmed. He was soft-spoken, but even with his stutter there was no denying how articulate he was. Maggie believed that when he was an adult he’d be the type of person to command a room without even trying. She smiled at the thought.

When they pulled up in front of Dr. Devlin’s office, they found Wentworth waiting outside. He had come from the University, which was closer.

“Why don’t you two go get signed in, and I’ll find somewhere to park,” Maggie said, throwing what she hoped was a cheerful smile to the two boys.

Bill and Georgie hopped out of the car and went to where Wentworth was waiting. Maggie watched to make sure they got inside alright before pulling the car around to the parking lot. Within minutes she had parked, and was joining her husband and the Denbroughs in the waiting room.

–

Bill sat in one of the hard plastic chairs, molded for faux-comfort, and did his best to keep from bouncing his knee up and down. He was nervous, but he couldn’t let Georgie see. Despite all that had changed, he still had to be the perfect big brother. So instead he took in the decorations of Henry Devlin’s waiting room. The walls were painted a faint blue, no doubt in the efforts to create a calming environment. There were plenty of plants, and a lot of natural light. Bill guessed the décor was minimalist, but he thought Maggie would know for sure. He turned to ask her when, Dr. Henry Devlin stepped out from his office. He was younger than Bill was expecting; his hair, only beginning to gray, stood up at odd angles like he hadn’t been able to find a comb this morning. And while that might suggest crazed scientist there was something open and inviting about his face, that Bill couldn’t help but be set at ease.

“George Denbrough?” His tone was low and soothing all at once, he seemed in no rush.

Georgie shot Bill and the Toziers a look before standing up. He followed Dr. Devlin into his office without looking back. Bill took this to be a hopeful sign.

The door closed with a soft sound, and Wentworth placed a reassuring hand on Bill’s shoulder. He knew this was how the Toziers’ showed love, had had a few weeks to get used to it, but it still amazed Bill that touch could be so gentle and kind. And as he sat waiting for his brother’s reemergence, Bill remembered his own parents.

–

Sharon and Zach Denbrough had never been open with their affections, but that didn’t mean they didn’t love one another or their sons.

Bill could remember working with his father to fix up the old bike he had bought from Kellerman’s. The hours spent out in the garage, hands covered in bicycle grease. Bill thought that he could still smell it even in Dr. Devlin’s office. Zach Denbrough would never have hugged his son, but he would spend hours fixing up an old bike, cracking jokes all the while guiding Bill’s hands.

Their mother had been a concert pianist, before deciding to become their mother. She had delicate hands, but they were strong from hours of practice. She taught lessons at the local high schools and college, really where ever she could. The music had flowed through her, and she was determined that at least one of her sons would be musical.

Bill had never had the patience for the piano. He regretted that now, wished he could have picked it up for her sake, but his art had always been storytelling. Sharon saw that and encouraged him to never give up on his passions. She had cultivated his reading tastes beyond Tolkein, which had been their father’s suggestion, to include Dickens, Jackson, and Austen.

It was Georgie she pushed to learn piano. She had been teaching him his _arpeggios_ when she had died, his fingers still too clumsy to master them. But Bill remembered her saying that with time he could be a wonderful player, never a prodigy, but still wonderful. He had the rhythm in him, Sharon knew it. Bill wondered if their next residence would have a piano, if Georgie would even want to learn.

He could remember evenings where their mother put on concerts for their little family. She dressed up in old concert dresses, Bill’s favorite had been a peacock blue tea dress that seemed to float about their mother, their father putting them in suits. And she played, her sons and husband sitting around the living room in rapt attention. Music was a staple of Bill’s childhood, For months after their adoption his dreams had been filled with fragments of Schubert, Tchaikovsky, and Schumann. His mother’s favorites had always been the Romantic composers.

He supposed she had shown her love by instilling a love for the arts in them. It was something which would outlast her life. For awhile Bill was sure that he would never be so loved again in his life, that his life would be cut short by whatever Mr. Gray did to him. But he had been wrong. It would seem that that love was still there, it had just been blotted out for awhile.

–

After the session, Dr. Devlin asked to speak to Maggie and Wentworth alone. Once his office door had been closed he said, “I know you have discussed homeschooling George, but I think it would be good for him to socialize with some kids of his own. He is very dependent on his brother which makes sense given the circumstances, but he needs to start developing relationships at his own maturity level. Are there any school friends of his that he might be able to hang out with?”

Maggie looked at her husband thoughtfully before responding. “According to his brother he has been bullied since arriving.”

“I see.”

“What about Danny Torrence?” Wentworth asked.

“Went –”

Dr. Devlin raised his hand to stop her. “I understand your concerns about bringing up the past, but I think it may help both the Denbroughs get closure. Mrs. Torrence knew the Denbroughs, she may be able to answer questions the boys have.”

Maggie nodded.

“I’d like to see George again next week if that’s possible.”

“We can make that work.”

“Wonderful,” Dr. Devlin ushered them to his door.

“Did he – did he speak?” Maggie asked, searching Dr. Devlin’s kind eyes.

“Ah, no. We have devised our own way of communicating, but I think it will be awhile yet before he says a word to anyone,” Dr. Devlin said.

Maggie tried to hide her disappointment.

– 

Like the Losers, Derry itself fell into a subdued busyness as winter progressed. Bowers and Gray’s trials had been set for late February, and until then the sensational fervor which had surrounded the town went into hibernation. This allowed both the defense and prosecution the time to create their cases as well as to focus with no distractions. Nell had returned to DC like a phantom. To those who didn’t know him it was hard to believe he had ever been here, but the changes he brought were starting to flourish.

Sadie Epping spent days on end, holed up in her office going through document after document with her ADAs and interns, prepping them for the courtroom. While her focus was always on prosecuting Mr. Gray, other trials were still going on. Terry Rheulin had already been sentenced with five years at Shawshank, and Mr Dunning’s trial was slated to begin next week. There was so much which constantly needed her attention, and while she felt at the top of her professional game, she knew that she was neglecting her personal life.

One evening as she arrived home from work, bitterly cold and mentally exhausted, she saw a group of people walking up the sidewalk. A trail of two children and two teenagers followed their mother like a herd of ducklings. It made Sadie pause, the key in her lock. To her surprise the mother led the group to Sadie’s front gate, opening it. She braced herself for whatever might come.

“Good evening,” Sadie called out.

The woman startled having not noticed her until now. “Hello Mrs. Epping. You don’t know me, but my name is Doris Dunning, and these are my children Troy, Arthur, Ellen, and Harry.”

The older boys had a grim, closed off look about them, but the little girl was smiling up at Sadie, her arms wrapped around something. She held it out for Sadie. To her surprise it was a pie tin, still warm. Sadie took it.

“What’s this?”

“We wanted to show you our appreciation for all you’re doing for this town, putting those people away. For putting my ex-husband away.” Doris gently pushed her eldest son forward.

He held out his offering, a casserole dish. The glass lid was steamed up, but even so Sadie could smell the fresh made meal. She took it from him, careful not to drop the pie. 

“Thank you, Doris. But this is too much.” She said, eyeing the bag in one of the other boy’s arms, no doubt containing more food.

“It’s just the start, ma’am. A bunch of us in the PTA decided to organize meals twice a week for your family as well as some others as we’ve seen how hard you’re working, and know you mustn’t have a lot of time for cooking.”

Sadie could feel tears coming to her eyes.

“Now, Tugga, why don’t you help the DA so she can get her door open.”

Tugga came forward, holding the screen door with his body, before reaching for the casserole dish. Sadie was then able to unlock the door. She set the pie on a side table before returning for the casserole and the grocery bag.

“Thank you again, Doris. I mean it.”

Doris smiled. “It was the least we could do. Now come on children, it’s time for us to get going.”

The children huddled around their mother and hurried back into the cold. Sadie watched them thoughtfully.

“Sadie? Did I hear you talking to someone?” Jake asked, emerging from his office. “What’s all this?”

“The Dunning family brought us dinner. Apparently the PTA organized some meals. Did you have anything to do with this?”

Jake looked surprised. “Not at all. Here let me help you with that.”

Sadie followed Jake into their little kitchen, her heart swelling.

–

The highest point in that cold winter, full of waiting, was Christmas. It would be the first Christmas Bill, Georgie, Mike, and Eddie had celebrated in years and everyone wanted to make it memorable. The usual Uris-Tozier holiday dinner was expanded to include everyone who had been present at Thanksgiving. Usually taking place between Hanukkah and Christmas, this year it was moved to Christmas Eve and would be hosted at the Tozier residence once again. And while the meal was an exquisite thing, it was really the following afternoon which everyone was so looking forward to as that was when they would exchange presents.

That night, Eddie lay awake in Richie’s bed like a little kid. While the Denbroughs and Mike remembered Christmas with their families, albeit the latter a little more dimly, Eddie had never had a real Christmas.

“Eds, if you don’t fall asleep Santa won’t come,” Richie said.

Eddie elbowed him.

“Ow! You’re a bony little bastard, you know that?”

“Don’t like it and you can sleep on the air mattress.”

The air mattress was set up on the floor, and was more for Richie’s parents’ ease of mind than anything else. They knew the boys didn’t use it, but what parent in their right mind would knowingly allow their teenage son to share a bed with his boyfriend? As long as it was there, they could claim ignorance. So the air mattress sat unused, always made up like some sort of Schrodinger's cat, both alive and dead, or more accurately both there and not there. 

“You’d exile me from my own bed on Christmas Eve?”

“Shut up, Richie.”

“Nah, I think your excitement is cute.”

Eddie buried his head in Richie’s shoulder letting out a mewl of protest, Richie chuckling softly. “Case in point, Eds.”

It took awhile for them to fall asleep.

–

The next morning, after a surprisingly civilized breakfast the Tozier family prepared to play host to their friends once more. The Urises and Beverly were the first to arrive, with bags and bags of holiday gifts under arms, bundled up against the cold. Mike and his family came next, Danny practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. He and Georgie disappeared into the living room immediately upon his arrival. Wendy smiled at that, Maggie pulling her into a welcoming hug. Somehow Wendy Torrence had fallen into Maggie’s ever-present gravity, and it seemed she would be a permanent fixture. The two were becoming fast friends.

Arlene and Ben came last, but no less buried under gifts. By the time they had arrived, the Tozier living room was more presents than anything else. It was hard to find enough places to sit. Most of the grown ups sat on the couches and arm chairs, the teenagers sprawling across the floor like when they had been kids. The adults sipped their coffees, passing gifts to the children to open. It seemed no one had spared any expenses.

Bill received a new bike from the Toziers as well as a leather bound set of the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy. The Urises gave him a creamy, heavy-knit sweater, with the promise that it could be exchanged if it didn’t suit him. He told them that wasn’t necessary. Arlene gave him new notebooks, and Dick Halloran gave him a beautiful fountain pen, and Wendy knitted him red mittens.

Eddie received a new winter coat from Arlene and Ben. It was ridiculously puffy, and despite Richie’s teasing that he would look like a red Michelin man, Eddie loved it. He had never had such a nice warm coat. The Toziers bought him thick socks. Wendy gave him hand knitted mittens in blue; Dick Halloran a cashmere scarf. It would appear that Eddie would never be cold another winter.

Mike got a book on bird-watching from the Urises as the woods surrounding the farm were full of interesting birds. The Toziers gave him a book on farmhouse interior design. Arlene gave him seed packets. Wendy gave him a new pair of work boots and purple mittens. But the best gift was the photo album from Uncle Dick. In it were photographs collected by Mike’s father, most of them taken by him, featuring everything from the farm to him as a baby in his mother’s arms. He teared up looking through the photos, and kept the album on his lap for the rest of the day.

Georgie was showered in gifts: a Mutant Ninja Turtles figurine set from the Toziers, yellow mittens from the Torrences, comic books from the Hanscoms, and a high-flyer sled from the Urises. And even though he never said the words thank you, it was written in every smile and the brightness in his eyes and the adults knew.

And the Losers exchanged their own gifts. Mike, Bill, and Georgie all received their own ham radios from Stan and Beverly. Richie had gotten everyone tins of peppermint hot cocoa, Ben had crafted bookmarks, Eddie bought Mike a football, just to name a few. There was so much love in that room that day, that nothing could have spoiled it.

As they were finishing up, the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?” Maggie asked.

“I’ll get it,” Stan said.

No one thought too much of Stan answering the Toziers’ door since he had been a semi-permanent fixture of the household since his birth, but all the chatting stopped when he returned. Following him was Audra, her mother, and Ellie Phillips.

“Mom.” Beverly stood suddenly.

“Hi, darling. I couldn’t spend Christmas a part from you,” Ellie said, taking in the sprawling families with some surprise. It was obvious that she hadn’t expected to see Beverly surrounded by so many people.

Beverly ran to her mother, careful not to trip over anything and pulled her into a hug. Conversation began to start up around her. The guests were welcomed. Maggie showed Mira and Audra to the kitchen for refreshments, leaving Beverly and her mother a moment alone.

“I thought you didn’t want to come to Derry.”

Ellie smiled, “let’s just say Audra and Stan can be very persistent.”

Beverly looked over her shoulder to see Stan subtly give her a thumbs up, before returning to his conversation with Bill.

“Mom –”

“I got you something,” Ellie said, pulling a box from her coat.

Beverly opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a pair of pearl drop earrings. “Thank you, Mom. I love them.”

Ellie gave her another hug. “Now, introduce me to all your friends.”

It was no easy task, getting Ellie acquainted with all her friends and their parents, but eventually she managed. Her mom went off to talk to Arlene and Dick, allowing her to settle back into Ben’s arms. Audra was talking intently to Bill. Eddie was teasing Richie and Stan about some debate they were having. Mike was engaging Danny and Georgie with their new figurines. Beverly watched all this and realized that she would never feel more at home than this.

“Hey, Bev,” Richie said. “Who do you think would win in a fight, Elsa or the Snow Miser?”

“What sort of competition is that? Their powers are literally the same.”

“That’s what I was saying,” Stan said.

“Nooooo.” Richie said.

“You should be asking who would win between Elsa and the Heat Miser,” Ben offered.

“Who’s the Heat Miser?” Danny asked. Georgie looked curious too.

Ben looked shocked. “He’s from _The Year Without A Santa Claus_.”

Danny shrugged. He was to young to have heard of that movie.

“Okay, after lunch, we gotta watch it,” Richie said.

“No way, we should watch _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_. It’s a classic,” Stan said.

“The original or the Jim Carrey version?”

“Original, duh.”

“Lame.”

“Bev, what do you think?” Bill asked.

Bev thought for a moment. “ _Elf_. It’s newer, but still a classic.”

Everyone seemed to be alright with that one, and the latest debate had been settled.

A lunch of left overs was had, and as the adults lingered over more coffee, the kids went to the living room to watch the film. A brief debate over seating arrangements sprung up, but it was easily settled. And as the movie played, the excitement of the day paired with the rich food put most of them to sleep, curled up against one another like a basket of kittens.

After the film everyone began packing their cars up to head home.

“C-can you get away from your parents for a few minutes. I want to give you your Hanukkah present,” Bill said softly to Stan in the foyer.

“Hey mom, I’m going to walk home,” Stan said.

For an instant there was fear in Andrea’s eyes, but it disappeared when she saw how Bill and Stan were looking at one another. “Alright, that’s fine. We’ll see you soon.”

“Beverly, love, can I talk to you for a moment?” Ellie asked.

Beverly led her mom away from the others to the relatively quiet kitchen. “What is it?”

“Your Aunt and Audra are going back to London after the New Year.”

“Oh. What about you?”

“Well there’s some things we need to settle first. I can see that this is where you’re meant to be Beverly. You have a family here.”

“You’re my family too.”

“I know, love. But I can’t transplant you to London. That wouldn’t be fair. I was talking to Dick and Wendy and it seems that they are opening a shelter here for battered women. I want to help them.”

“What are you saying?”

“I can do most of my design work here. I may have to travel for a few weeks at a time come fashion week and what not, but you’ll be in good hands while I’m away.”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to come back here, after all dad has put you through.”

“Oh, love. A place is more than just its memories. Bad things happened in Derry, but good things have too. It’s where I gave birth to you, and it’s where you’ve grown up. I don’t want to tear you away from all that before you’re ready, but I also want you to know that the world is bigger than this town. You don’t have to settle down for a long time, and when you do it doesn’t have to be here. Do you understand?”

Beverly nodded, but to tell the truth her head was spinning at the prospect of staying in Derry. It was almost too good to be true. “So we’re staying?”

“We’re staying.”

Beverly gave her mom a tight hug.

“Do you think the Urises are still offering their third floor?”

Beverly laughed. “I’m sure it can be arranged.”

“I’ll go chat with them about it.”

Beverly nodded. She then ran to go find Mike. He was outside with his family, packing up Wendy’s car. 

“Thank you. We’re staying because of you.”

Mike turned in surprise, having no clue to what Beverly was referring, but Wendy and Dick just smiled.

“You’re welcome, honey,” Wendy said.

“Afraid it will be awhile til the house is up, but the Urises seem more than happy to have you,” Dick said.

Beverly pulled them both into a tight hug.

“What did I miss?” Mike asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” Beverly said with a wink. 

She had to go tell Ben the good news.

–

Bill and Stan walked through Derry enjoying the quiet. Their breath formed little clouds in front of them, their cheeks were red from the cold. Snow began to fall, covering the world, making it new again.

“I w-w-wanted to thank you. None of this w-would have happened if you hadn’t had the courage to go to your parents,” Bill said.

“Bill –”

“I always thought I’d be the one to get us out, be the one to save us… b-b-but it was you. You had the courage to g-get help when I w-was too stubborn. You’re the smartest, kindest, b-bravest person I know. I’m b-better for knowing you, Stan. You’ve changed my life.”

“Bill…” 

“Can I kiss you?”

Stan smiled, nodding.

Bill ducked his head, pressing a gentle kiss onto Stan’s lips. They were a bit chapped from the cold, but then he opened his mouth and oh god the warmth. Stan let out a little moan, his hand pushing its way under the hem of Bill’s coat and shirt, pressing cool fingers onto the skin there.

Bill gasped, allowing Stan to take control.

They stood there, snow falling, kissing until the need for air became too great. Pulling a part, they stared at one another, eyes dark, cheeks red not from the cold.

“I’m falling in love with you, Stanley Uris.”

Stan could feel his already wild heart begin to beat faster. “I’m falling in love with you.”

Bill pulled a poorly wrapped gift from his coat pocket, and offered it to Stan. Stan opened it, careful not to rip the paper. Inside was a beat up copy of _Henry IV part 1_. Stan cocked his head.

“It’s the first thing we talked about when we met,” Bill said softly.

“The summer reading.” Stan smiled, running his fingers over the smooth page edges. They were yellowed and softened with age, so different than the pristine order Stan usually imposed on his books.

“I was reading it when I arrived in Derry. Open it.”

The pages were full of Bill’s cramped handwriting. Annotations from class, his own thoughts from the reading, other bits of inspiration. Whole passages were underlined. It was like looking into Bill’s most intimate self. Stan’s fingers traced over the words: _this is no world/ To play with mammets and to tilt with lips/ We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns …_

And below it:

 _I love thee infinitely… Whither I go, thither shall you go too; To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you._

“Thank you, Bill.”

“Now let’s get you home, else your mom will worry.”

However, Andrea wouldn’t worry. Her mind was too occupied by the news that Beverly and her mother would be moving in until the farm house was finished, although neither boy knew that happy news yet. Right now, all they knew was their love for one another and the falling snow. A clean slate at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the continued support this fic has gotten. I am beyond blown away by your love for it. Did you know it's about the same length as the 3rd Harry Potter book now? Like that's crazy to me. I'm predicting about 5 more chapters give or take one or two, so we really are getting close to the end.  
> Please leave a comment below letting me know what you thought about this chapter! I love hearing from you.  
> Until next time!  
> YRS  
> Weaver


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